


a war could be our only hope

by AceofWands



Series: Avengers Trek Anthology [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Trek, Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alien Sex, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Avengers Trek AU, Can be read standalone, Crossover, Dominion War (Star Trek), Dreams and Nightmares, Drinking, Explicit Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Hallucinations, Healing from trauma, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Shower Sex, Star Trek Context Notes Provided, Star Trek References, The Borg, Tony Stark Has Issues, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Trauma Recovery, Trills, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-02-10 22:31:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 62,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18669685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceofWands/pseuds/AceofWands
Summary: Steve emerges in the future, where the Federation is fighting a war against the totalitarian Dominion. Traumatised from his experience with the Borg, Tony already has enough trouble coping without Steve's return bringing up unexpected feelings.





	1. Teaser

**Author's Note:**

> Avengers/Star Trek crossover that reimagines the Marvel characters as part of the classic Star Trek universe.
> 
> This can be read standalone! This is the main story in the anthology, with the previous stories more like prequels.
> 
> That said, if you're unfamiliar with Star Trek, I do recommend reading some of the prequels first so that you're not confused!
> 
> Specifically, in this story Tony is a Joined Trill (see context notes below) and Howard and Maria are not his parents, but his previous hosts. [it's a strange sensation, dying](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17610320) is only 1500 words and gives you a crash course in how that works ;)
> 
> If you don't know what the Borg are, and how they work, then I recommend [terrors to freeze your soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17658281) for Tony's backstory.
> 
> And lastly, if you want to know what happened to Steve prior to this, then read [risk is our business](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17599418).
> 
>  
> 
> This is set during the Dominion War, as shown on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, but no knowledge of that series is needed to follow this story.  
> But do be aware, if you plan on watching DS9, that this story contains major spoilers for its fifth, sixth and seventh seasons.
> 
> Set in 2373 through to 2375.
> 
> "We're losing the peace, which means a war could be our only hope."  
> – Benjamin Sisko, 2373 ("Call to Arms")
> 
>  
> 
> Star Trek context notes:  
> Joined Trill are primarily featured in Deep Space Nine in the characters of Jadzia Dax and Ezri Dax. They are a species made up of a humanoid host (with spots running down either side of their body) and a large worm-like symbiont (that lives in the host's abdominal pouch). Joining is considered a great honour and is extremely competitive. The symbiont has their own personality but also retains the memories and personality of every host they have been joined to, so that a joined Trill becomes an amalgamation of all the previous hosts and the current one - they are considered a new person (and this is reflected in the host taking the symbiont's name as their surname).
> 
> The Borg are a cybernetic race made up of humanoids that have been forcibly assimilated through the injection of nanoprobes that links them to the hive mind of the Collective. Their free will is suppressed (though they will remain conscious of what is happening, even if they cannot act) and they become drones that carry out the will of the Collective. Mechanical components are integrated into their bodies to enhance their biological features, and as tools for carrying out specific work, and they regenerate instead of sleeping. Their ships are geometric in shape, most notably the Borg cube, sphere, and diamond.
> 
> The Dominion is an interstellar state from the Gamma Quadrant (a far-flung area of space accessed through the Bajoran wormhole, guarded by Deep Space Nine), first encountered by the Federation in 2370. They are made up of the ruthless, genetically engineered soldiers, the Jem'Hadar; the cloned diplomats and commanders, the Vorta; and the shapeshifter/changeling rulers, the Founders.

 

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It appears to be some kind of power source.”

“Indeed. I am unable to ascertain its function. Current Federation technology for artificial cardiovascular and artificial pulmonary systems do not require such sizeable power sources to function. Given their technology, it appears unlikely that the Borg would not have similar capabilities. Therefore, we must conclude that this device serves some other purpose. Until we can determine what that is, I would not recommend attempting to remove it.”

“Even if I wanted to, I’m not sure that I could without causing further damage. It’s completely fused to his skeleton. Either I take everything out, or I leave everything in. And frankly, I’m not sure that I-“

Alarms began to blare, and Tony became aware of himself. Floating in darkness, numbness, voices and sounds a chaotic jumble around him.

“He’s waking up. It must be the nanoprobes, quick Data get me ten ccs of anesthezine!”

Tony opened his eyes, suddenly, taking in the redheaded Starfleet Doctor reaching for a hypospray from the pale skinned, golden eyed engineer standing across the biobed from her. Before she could reach down and press the hypospray to his neck, his arm shot up, reaching out for her, assimilation tubules shooting out from the inside of his wrist and driving straight into her neck. She gasped, her skin immediately beginning to lose colour.

The engineer reached out to grab Tony, but he was faster, sitting up and pushing him in one seamless motion, a blow that sent the man flying across the room.

Tony heard the voice of the Collective roaring in his ears. Ordering him to assimilate these inferior lifeforms, to add their biological and technological distinctiveness to the Collective’s own, and – unable to control his limbs, forced to obey them – he hopped down off the biobed to do just that. He advanced on a dark-haired nurse who was trying to back away, her panicked eyes never leaving him.

She opened her mouth, to plead or beg, but the wrong voice came out: “Sir? Sir! I must insist you wake up, sir!”

Tony’s eyes flew open and he gasped, hearts racing at warp ten, breathing ragged and loud in the darkness of his quarters.

“JARVIS, lights!” he cried out, blinding himself as the room immediately illuminated around him.

He was drenched in sweat, legs tangled in blankets and sheets. He struggled against them for long seconds, until he finally extracted himself from their grasp and staggered off the bed to sink down to the floor, hands and knees pressing into the soft fibres of the carpet as he breathed and breathed, sucking air desperately into his lungs, trying to calm down.

“You were having a nightmare, sir,” JARVIS reminded him, following the protocols that Tony had put in place from the earliest moment of his AI’s inception. “The current stardate is 50998.5. The time is 0400 hours and 31 minutes. You are in your quarters on Research Outpost 115. The diagnostic I was running on the IM EVA suit was completed one hour and twenty three minutes ago. You still have twelve unread messages from Commander Potts and seven messages from Starfleet Command waiting in your communications log. Shall I go on, sir?”

“No,” Tony gasped out, leaning back on his haunches and waving JARVIS off. It was only a nightmare, he reminded himself, he _hadn’t_ attacked Doctor Crusher and Commander Data, they were both alive and well and serving on the Enterprise. He repeated these truths over and over until they finally sank in. He let himself fall back against the frame of the bed, breathing finally starting to slow down. “Thanks JARVIS.” He wiped the back of his hand across his sweaty forehead, then grimaced and stood up, ignoring the shaking of his limbs as he stripped off his pyjamas and made his way to the ‘fresher for a shower.

He caught a glimpse of his face in the mirror as he passed and couldn’t help the wince at his haggard appearance. The bags under his eyes were as dark as his spots, especially compared to the ashen paleness of his skin. _Maybe if you tried getting more than three hours of sleep a night and actually left your lab?_ Maria suggested wryly, as he activated the water and let it sluice down his aching body, washing away the sweat and grime.

“Tell Stark to stop turning my memories into nightmares and you have a deal,” Tony snarked back, closing his eyes against the spray.

 _Go back to your counsellor and Stark won’t need to process the trauma through nightmares!_ Maria snapped back at him, and he could feel her eyes boring into him.

Snarling, Tony slapped his hand over the panel to shut off the water and strode out of the shower, not even bothering with a towel as he stalked past the hallucination of his previous host and back into his bedroom. She followed him, feet making no sound, and stared at him as he grabbed up the first clean pile of clothes he found and shrugged them on, immediately feeling at ease when the glow from the centre of his chest was hidden away again.

 _You can’t keep going like this, Tony_ , Maria began.

He turned on her with a roar, “Leave me alone!”

But, of course, there was nothing there.

Tony sighed. He was drenched, his clothing soaked through, but he was too exhausted to change, just trudged out of the door and across the corridor to his lab.

Time passed in fits and starts for him these days, hours seemingly passing in seconds and some seconds feeling like hours. JARVIS had been programmed to remind him to eat, drink and take regular bathroom breaks, as well as shut everything down to run diagnostics every night so that Tony could force himself to attempt to sleep. Despite what some parts of him thought, he _was_ actually capable of taking care of himself. Even if the days did run together in an endless blur.

So it was something of a shock when, after an indeterminate number of hours had passed since waking, a familiar voice called out to him from the entrance to the lab.

“So, this is where you’ve been hiding yourself.”

Tony whirled around, micro-resonator in one hand and gauntlet in the other hand, to find another hallucination staring at him, arms folded. This was the first time Stark had conjured up someone _other_ than one of their previous hosts, and for a second Tony worried that he was finally having a breakdown.

But then he actually took in the appearance of Pepper Potts in front of him, noticed the unfamiliar Starfleet uniform she was wearing – grey quilted shoulders over a red collar, the rest all black. And even his most vivid hallucinations of Maria and Howard had never managed to convey quite so much emotion in their facial expressions and body language. Pepper was studying his appearance in return, brow furrowed, the corners of her mouth twisted down, folded arms tightening.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded, ignoring the flash of hurt on Pepper’s face.

She turned her gaze from him to the lab, taking in the chaotic jumble – tables piled high with disassembled components, finished prototypes held neatly in stasis at the edges of the room, holographic schematics displayed in the gaps between them on the walls. “You stopped answering my messages,” she replied, anger sharpening her features as her eyes returned to him.

“Because I didn’t want to speak to you,” he snapped.

Pepper’s jaw clenched. “Tony.”

“Save it. I’ve already had enough interventions to last me a lifetime,” he said, words directed over Pepper’s shoulder to where Maria was standing, mirroring her pose, her eyes cold. “I don’t need another one today. So you’ve come all this way for nothing.” He turned away from her, bringing the micro-resonator back up to the gauntlet.

“I’m not here to stage an intervention,” Pepper replied, acidly, “I’m here to officially inform you that, as of today, you have been recalled to active duty.”

Tony dropped his equipment and looked over his shoulder at her, incredulous. “I resigned my commission. Starfleet can’t recall me, I’m just an ordinary civilian now. One who wants to be left alone.”

Pepper’s brow furrowed, “What are you talking about? You never resigned your commission.”

“Yes. I did,” Tony replied, turning to face her properly, frowning.

“I am afraid that Commander Potts is correct,” JARVIS piped up, startling Pepper. “While you did draft a letter of resignation on stardate 48423.4, it was never sent.”

Tony blinked, then cursed. “Well, what are you waiting for? Send it JARVIS. Better late than never.”

Pepper let out a frustrated sound. “I can’t believe you! Are you seriously telling me that you’re going to resign your commission _now_? You’re just going to sit here, in this lab, in the middle of nowhere, while the rest of the fleet is fighting and _dying_? Starfleet might have been happy to give you time to sort yourself out, though I’m seeing now that that was clearly a mistake, but I don’t think the Dominion will pay you the same courtesy.”

“What are you talking about?” Tony asked, “The Dominion? That empire from the Gamma Quadrant? What have they got to do with anything?”

Pepper gaped at him, eyes growing wide and mouth open but no sound coming out. Then she actually seemed to stagger slightly, pressing a hand to the table next to her as if she needed to hold herself up. “What? You- _how have you not heard_?”

“Heard what?” Tony asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Tony, the Dominion have invaded the Alpha Quadrant. We lost Deep Space Nine to them three weeks ago. We’re at war!”

A high pitched buzzing seemed to fill Tony’s ears and he felt himself stagger, just like Pepper had, crashing back against his workbench, hands gripping onto the edge as his knees momentarily weakened at the shock. “What?”

“I don’t believe this,” Pepper said, running a hand through her hair and staring at Tony like she’d never seen him before. “I knew you weren’t replying to my messages, but I thought you were at least listening to them! You really didn’t know?”

Tony shook his head, mind racing. He’d heard of the Dominion, of course, everyone had after they destroyed the USS Odyssey in the Gamma Quadrant. But he’d been so preoccupied in the … how long had it even been? He replayed JARVIS’s messages from this morning in his head. Years. It had been years since he’d read the news. Years since he’d engaged with the universe outside of his lab. He had listened to Pepper’s messages, at first, remembered something about the breaking of the Khitomer Accords, the Klingons fighting with the Cardassian Union, and changeling infiltration. But it had all seemed so far away. So … so trivial. Compared to the looming threat of the Borg.

But war was so far from trivial it wasn’t even funny. He’d been preparing for an invasion of the Alpha Quadrant, but apparently he’d been so single-minded in his focus on the Borg that he hadn’t even noticed another enemy was already at their doorstep. Had apparently crossed the threshold, weeks ago.

“Are you even listening to me?” Pepper asked, and Tony blinked back into the room, shaking his head, but he spoke before she could chastise him, or repeat whatever she’d been saying.

“Where am I being assigned?” he asked, taking a step towards her. Suddenly aware of how he must look, clothes still slightly damp, beard a scraggly mass obscuring his face, hair a tangled mess.

Pepper stared at him, expression searching. “Chief Engineer of the USS Marvel. I told the Captain we needed the best, and that you were it, but … honestly Tony? Now that I’m here, I’m not sure you’re up for it.”

He shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. You’re right, I am the best, and the Federation is going to need the best if we’re going to win this war.”

Pepper frowned, her lips pursed. “Of course it matters, do you really think I’m going to jeopardise my crew by bringing in an officer who isn’t up for the job? _Especially_ when we’re fighting a war.”

“I’m up for the job! You served with me long enough to know that!”

Pepper looked away from him. “That was before. I didn’t realise how much had changed.”

Tony scowled at her, drawing himself up to his full height so that her gaze was pulled back to him, “So, what? That’s it? You’re just going to leave me here, while you go off and fight?”

“Two minutes ago you didn’t even know we were fighting!”

“And you honestly think that, if I had known, I’d still be here?” Tony asked, arms flinging up in exasperation. “I may have … neglected to check my messages, recently, but I would have gotten to them eventually, and then it’d have been _me_ showing up in _your_ office. But the fact that you didn’t wait for that to happen – that you came all this way, even when you haven’t heard from me in months, means that you know exactly how much Starfleet needs me. How much your ship needs me.”

Pepper met his gaze, eyes darting back and forth across his face as she considered him. Then she sighed, jaw tight as she glanced away from him. “I’m sorry, Tony. I shouldn’t have come. I can’t afford to bring someone who’s a … liability on board.”

Tony grit his teeth. He flung his hand out, gesturing to one of the prototypes against the wall. “The prototype quantum torpedo,” he announced, “Prototype phaser cannon assembly, prototype for the new type-3 phaser rifle, adapted metaphasic shield generator with automatic frequency randomisation,” he continued, gesturing at each in turn. “All developed and sent to Starfleet in the past three and a half years, and which, I am assured, have already been implemented in the fleet. Then there’s the half dozen starship designs, my groundbreaking work in artificial intelligence and nanotechnology, oh, and the armed and fortified EVA suit I’m in the middle of building.” He gestured behind him, at the pieces scattered across the worktable, then folded his arms across his chest, “My ability to do my job is the only thing that _hasn’t_ been compromised since the Resilient,” he insisted, “I swear – you can be as concerned as you want, force me into more pointless counselling if it makes you feel better, but I promise you that, no matter how much my personal life might have gone to shit, if you bring me on board I will be nothing less than an _exemplary_ chief engineer.”

Pepper stared at him.

“Okay,” she finally said, with the glimmer of a frown before her brow smoothed. “Alright Tony. I believe you. But I also am trusting you to tell me if it ever becomes too much and you realise you can’t handle it. Okay?”

“Deal,” Tony said. A tiny, grim smile curling the corners of his lips. “So, when do we leave?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you also love both Marvel and Star Trek and want to chat about them, you can find me on [tumblr](http://aceofwands.tumblr.com/) :)
> 
> If anyone else wants to play in this sandbox you have my blanket permission - just credit this series/fic for inspiration please :)


	2. I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who haven’t seen DS9, Joined Trill do not normally see apparitions of their previous hosts unless they do a specific ritual to call them out for a limited period of time, so the hallucinations Tony is experiencing are Bad.
> 
> I've based Jan and Hank off their comics/cartoon counterparts, rather than their MCU versions.
> 
> Star Trek Context Notes:  
> The Cardassians are a reptilian race (with distinctive neck ridges and a spoon-like ridge on their forehead) who are xenophobic and imperialistic, known for their extreme loyalty to the State and the military, with a justice system in which the accused is always guilty. They fought a war with the Federation from 2347-2366, and joined the Dominion in their war against the Federation.

2373

“We’re out of time. This base is gonna blow.”

“You … have your … orders.”

“What are you doing Stark? Oh hell no! We are not leaving without Steve! Steve, you bastard, what the hell-“

Barnes rushed at him, even as he yelled at Steve over the comm.

Howard leapt out of his seat. Dodged out of the way of the right hook flying towards his temple. Ducked down and then rushed forward to grab Barnes around the torso, his arms forced up into the air.

Barnes struggled, swearing a blue streak, trying to bring his arms down on Howard’s head.

He wiggled out of Howard’s grip, snagging him across the jaw and trying to leap back towards the controls. But Howard twisted, putting his whole weight behind his shoulder as he used it to push Barnes back into the centre of the shuttle.

Barnes stumbled, and Howard used his momentary disorientation to twist back around and activate the forcefield control he’d set up while Barnes hadn’t been paying attention.

“Fuck you Stark!” Bucky swore, slamming his fists against the forcefield. His teeth were bared, and he looked like he wanted to rip the forcefield apart with his bare hands. Stark had never seen anyone so furious before or since.

But he had his orders.

Gasping for breath, Howard dropped back down into the pilot’s seat, his hands dancing over the controls as he finished inputting the take off sequence that Barnes had interrupted him in the middle of entering. The shuttle rose from the deck and turned. Howard slid sideways in his seat from the speed of the motion, and then they shot through the open doors of the launch bay and out into open space.

“We’ve left the base,” Howard told Steve, now that he had his breath back. “I had to restrain Barnes behind a forcefield,” he added.

“I’m going to get both of you for this!” Barnes swore, “I don’t give a damn if they court martial me!” He slapped the forcefield again for emphasis.

“I’m … almost … there,” Steve’s voice crackled over the comm, in between gasps for breath.

“Go for the Orion Interceptor on your left,” Howard said, “It has the fastest warm up sequence – and I went in and put it on stand-by before joining Barnes.” He was grateful now, that he’d thought to do so. He knew that Steve would never have forgiven him if all three of them died when it could have been avoided. And he had Stark to think of. Barnes might think he was a callous bastard but one life was better than four, even if it was the life of one of the best people he’d ever known.

“You _planned_ this? Damn you Stark!” Barnes yelled. His hands must be red raw from the battering he was giving the forcefield.

Howard didn’t have time to justify himself to the other man, he was too busy piloting them away from the base as fast as he could, trying to get in comms range of the _America_.

“Thanks … Stark,” Steve wheezed over the comm. Howard grit his jaw, him and Stark both praying for a miracle.

He thought their prayers had been answered when, not even a minute later, the communications panel lit up all the way. “I’ve got the America on the comm – Schmidt was jamming our signals,” he announced, relieved grin spreading across his face.

“Patch me in,” Steve said, “I’m just leaving the base now.” And sure enough, their sensors registered the Orion vessel as it left the hangar bay.

Howard activated the comm, patching all three ships together. “Steve? Bucky?” Peggy asked, sounding even madder than Barnes, which was saying something. “What is going on over there? We’re detecting a massive power build up. But when we tried to approach, the base shot at us!”

“Is everyone okay?” Steve asked.

“Yes, yes, everyone’s fine, it barely scratched our shields. But what is-“

Howard interrupted, this was hardly the time for questions! “The base is going to blow. Barnes and I are approaching fast – Steve is only leaving it now, but he should be- oh no.” Every console on the shuttle lit up at once, proximity alarms going off, as explosions began to tear through the base – but Howard could see that the icon showing Steve’s position was still too close. He was going to get caught in the blast.

“Peggy, Bucky, Howard, I-“ Steve choked out, not even able to get out any final words before Barnes started screaming, slapping at the forcefield frantically as if that could stop what was about to happen.

“Steve! _No!_ Dammit Stark _I told you_ we had to wait! _I can’t believe you left him there!_ ”

Howard watched the sensor panel in horror as the shockwave swept out and through the icon representing Steve’s ship – and then closed the distance between them.

He didn’t even grab onto the edge of his console as it reached them, catching their aft and sending them tumbling end over end, the inertial dampeners struggling to keep up as half their systems went offline. Howard went flying out of his seat, bounced off the roof and then went tumbling back towards the forcefield containing Barnes – which disappeared with a sizzle and a flash as the emitter went offline.

With a roar of pain and fury, Barnes pushed himself off the aft section where he’d tumbled and came straight for Howard, who didn’t even bother trying to defend himself as Barnes’ fist connected with his face.

Tony jolted awake.

Waking up with his hearts racing, gasping for breath, was hardly anything unusual, but the alarm blaring at him was. It took him a very disorienting moment to realise that it _wasn’t_ the red alert klaxon – and that that was why he was still sitting here, rather than halfway to Engineering on auto-pilot.

He frowned, looking blearily around his lab. Seems like he’d fallen asleep at his workbench again.

“JARVIS?” he called out.

“My apologies for waking you sir,” his AI replied, the alarm still going, “But it appears the protocols which have triggered this alarm fall outside my control.”

Tony’s frown deepened, _nothing_ was outside JARVIS’s control, except-

His eyes widened. “Shut down the alert, authorisation Stark-Iota-Mu,” he called out, standing and making a beeline for the wall console. With a few taps of his fingers he had confirmation. “JARVIS, put me through to the Captain.”

“Sir,” JARVIS exclaimed, “The current time is 0300 hours 13 minutes. I do not believe the Captain would appreciate being woken up for-“

“Just do it JARVIS.”

He was busy tugging on his boots when her voice came over the comm, sounding alert despite the late hour. “This had better be important Stark.”

“We have a situation Captain, I recommend assembling the senior staff immediately,” he replied.

“What sort of situation? I’d know if we were under attack.”

Tony resisted the urge to sigh, and bit out, “The sort of situation that warrants assembling the senior staff at three in the morning. I’ll be in the observation lounge in five minutes. Stark out.” Then he grabbed his uniform jacket and rushed out the door.

Five minutes later he was pacing back and forth in front of an empty conference table, wondering if he was going to have to call Pepper and ask _her_ to assemble the senior staff, when the door whooshed open and Captain Carol Danvers strode in, with Pepper close on her heels. They were followed by the rest of the senior staff, who looked varying degrees of pissed off for having been woken up for anything less than a battle. Ordinarily, Tony would agree with them, but this was urgent, as they were about to find out.

“Alright Commander Stark, we’re assembled. Now report,” Captain Danvers ordered. 

“Right, let’s get straight to it,” he said, clapping his hands together. “JARVIS, bring up the readings that triggered the alert ten minutes ago.” JARVIS was usually limited to Tony’s workshop and engineering, the Marvel having its own standard Computer, but his AI easily tapped into the ship’s systems and dimmed the lights before projecting a hologram of the readings above the conference table.

“What exactly are we looking at?” Pepper asked, after a moment, “For those of us who don’t speak science.”

“Right, sorry. What you’re looking at are the readings from a very, _very_ specific type of radiation – a unique combination of chroniton particles and metreon radiation that has only ever been found in one location in the Federation in the last century,” Tony explained.

Pepper looked at him sharply, but apparently she wasn’t the only one familiar with what he was talking about.

“Wait, chroniton particles and metreon radiation?” Lieutenant Hank Pym, their chief science officer asked, dragging his eyes away from the projected data to frown at Tony. “You can’t possibly mean-?”

“These readings are an exact match to those found at the site of the disappearance of an Orion Interceptor from the Koralis system in 2280,” Tony confirmed.

“I’m sorry, you’ve lost me,” their chief medical officer, Doctor Stephen Strange, spoke up, not sounding pleased at having been woken up for this. “What has an Orion Interceptor that disappeared almost a century ago got to do with anything?”

“That Orion Interceptor,” Tony explained, raising his voice slightly and staring Strange down, “Was being piloted by Captain Steven Rogers of the USS America. He was investigating a cloaked facility created by a Doctor Johann Schmidt – a dangerous scientist and convicted criminal who was attempting to alter the Federation’s past by taking a group of genetically engineered super humans back in time. When the base was destroyed, Captain Rogers’ ship was caught in the blast.” He lifted his chin slightly and folded his arms. “And I’ve spent _three lifetimes_ trying to determine what happened to it.”

“Commander Stark has long held the opinion that the vessel was thrown forwards in time,” Pym added, his expression showing exactly how likely he thought that scenario was.

Tony scowled at him. “There wasn’t enough debris at the site to account for the entire vessel. It simply disappeared, without a trace,” he snapped, “Until now.” He gestured to the hologram in front of them.

“Wait,” Lieutenant Janet van Dyne said, looking away from them to study the data, “I thought you said these were the readings taken from the site in 2280.”

“No,” Tony said, face softening. He actually liked Jan, even though her husband was an asshole. “I said that these readings were an _exact match_ to the ones I took in 2280. _These_ were taken twenty minutes ago, from the Almatha sector, near Panora.”

Pepper sucked in a sharp breath.

“That’s across the border,” Danvers said, her first contribution to the discussion, which she’d listened to with a neutral expression.

“I am aware of that,” Tony said, schooling his expression and tone so that they were as professional as he could make them. He thought that he and Carol would have gotten along, before the Resilient. But now … he knew Pepper would have discussed the concerns she had about him with the Captain, when he came onboard. Suspected she was just waiting for him to crack, and knew she’d have him off her ship in a second the moment he did. So in the months he’d served under her, they’d managed nothing more than professional courtesy. “However, if these readings are correct, I believe that Captain Rogers’ ship is going to emerge in the Almatha sector within a matter of hours. And if that is the case, and he’s still alive, then he will be captured by Dominion forces almost immediately, if we don’t intervene.”

“And if he doesn’t appear? Or his ship was destroyed by this temporal event?” Carol countered, eyebrow raised. “You’re asking me to put this crew at risk based on data that may or may not be accurate.”

“I believe it is accurate,” Tony said, “Koralis is only a few lightyears from the projected location – it makes sense that there would be a displacement in space, as well as time.”

“That’s pure conjecture,” Pym objected.

Tony’s scowl returned. “Then explain why these readings are coming from Almatha rather than Koralis.”

“You’re still assuming that these readings are accurate in the first place,” Pym retorted, folding his arms across his chest.

Tony’s eyebrows rose, “Why would they not be accurate?” he demanded.

“You’re asking us to trust in a program you’ve been running passively, for, what, a century?”

Tony scoffed, “It’s not the exact same program. _Obviously_ I’ve made modifications over the decades. _You_ might not- ”

“Gentlemen, please!” Pepper interrupted. “Argue on your own time. If we could please return to the matter at hand?”

“The matter at hand is that Captain Rogers is going to appear in a matter of hours, and we are apparently going to let him fall into Dominion hands,” Tony argued, staring at each person around the table in turn.

“Say for a moment these readings are genuine,” Doctor Strange said, “It could very easily be a Dominion trap.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, then fell immediately into another frown. “That’s a hell of a specific trap,” he pointed out, sarcastically, “Considering that without my program looking for it, the ship wouldn’t have noticed a thing.”

“Whether it is or isn’t a trap. Or the readings are or not accurate, is irrelevant,” Danvers said, placing her hands on the table in front of her. “I’m sorry Commander Stark, I know this is important to you, but even if I _was_ willing to risk our lives for this, we have our orders. We’re meant to be patrolling this section of the Cardassian border, and leaving our post could leave the Federation open to attack.”

Tony felt his jaw clench, involuntarily. He grit his teeth for a few moments before he finally spoke. “I understand. Sorry for getting you all out bed for something as meaningless as the life of one of the Federation’s most decorated officers.”

Then he rose from his chair and strode out the door.

He didn’t go back to sleep, like the rest of the crew was probably doing right now, cursing his existence as they crawled back into bed, praying they’d get a few uninterrupted hours at least before their duty shifts.

This was his own fault. He could have – should have – made more of an effort to get to know the senior staff, at the very least. Might have had some of them on his side, rather than actively arguing against him. Even Pepper had been conspicuously silent. But then, she’d never understood his obsession with Steve Rogers (her words, not his). He supposed it was difficult for others to understand.

He’d been waiting for these readings to reappear for 93 years.

Memories worked differently for Joined Trill. They didn’t grow faint and foggy with distance and time. They might get more jumbled and lost to sheer volume, over the centuries, and with each new host, but the memories themselves were as crystal clear as the day they’d been experienced.

He remembered everything Howard did, in the days after Steve disappeared. Remembered the weeks he’d spent scanning every square centimetre of the Koralis system, searching for any evidence at all that Steve’s ship hadn’t been destroyed in the explosion. Remembered the way Barnes’ words had echoed in his head the whole time, and for all the years since, _I can’t believe you left him there_.

It would be one thing, if his accusations were simply words spoken in anger, misplaced and directed at the closest target. But he was right. It was Howard’s fault.

And Stark carried that guilt with them for the past nine decades.

Howard had spent the rest of his life, short as it was, using every method available to Federation science at the time – and then inventing entirely new methods when the existing ones didn’t work – to try to track Steve down. To bring him back. In the end, it had cost him his life.

Stark hadn’t let Maria follow him down that road. Had wanted to live a new life, and let the past be the past. But even she hadn’t been able to let go entirely. She’d travelled the galaxy for decades, first in Starfleet, then as an Ambassador, and had run the America-1 program from every ship, starbase and planet she’d visited.

By the time Tony had been joined to Stark it had become a habit. Arrive at a new post, hack into the passive sensors and upload the program. He hadn’t really given it much thought. Never really expected that _he’d_ be the host to find Steve. Not until after the Resilient.

Then his obsession had started.

The counsellors called it a coping method. Transference. He couldn’t change what had happened to him, so he tried to change a past mistake. That first year, before he’d left for the research outpost, Rhodey and Pepper had been subjected to daily progress reports ( _rants, more like_ , Maria thought) and every single wild theory and strategy he’d been able to devise for how to get Steve back. He’d spent three months living on Starbase 375, directing active scans at the nearby Koralis system and calculating temporal flux and spatial variables using all of the science developed in the past century. Had fed all of the data back into the America-1 program, so that it was as finely tuned and perfectly calibrated as it was going to get in this lifetime.

The first time he met Hank Pym, he was delivering a talk at a conference, sharing the most promising of these ‘theories’ with a group of the Federation’s best and brightest – all of whom stared at him with expressions ranging from derision to pity.

It had taken seeing a hallucination of Howard standing on the stage beside him, both of them ranting and raving side by side, for Tony to finally realise that Pepper and Rhodey and all those counsellors had been right. He was obsessed.

It wasn’t like that now, though, he thought to himself as he stared at the readings from the privacy of his lab.

He’d moved on. Literally moved himself away from Cardassian space and dedicated himself to developing technology to help combat the Borg when they inevitably returned. Had isolated himself so much that he didn’t even realise there’d been another attempted Borg invasion until after Pepper had recalled him to active duty (that’s what he got for not checking his messages for three months).

But the point was, he thought, stabbing at the holographic map of the sector with his fingers and manipulating the controls until it displayed the calculated point of entry of the Orion Interceptor based on the readings from the past hour, _the point_ was that he _wasn’t_ obsessed anymore, which meant that this wasn’t just some figment of his imagination.

He wouldn’t care about the crew’s dismissal if it was just some intellectual exercise. If all he had to do was wait until he was proved right and he could see the sour look on Pym’s face. But Steve’s life was at stake here.

He couldn’t leave him behind. Not again.

 _We have to go and steal a shuttle_ , Howard informed him, staring at him from the other side of the holographic map.

Tony frowned back at him. “We won’t last five minutes, if the Dominion turn up.”

Howard leaned through the hologram, so that his face rippled through darkness and pinpricks of light. _What other choice do we have? We can’t leave him to be captured!_

He was right. Tony’s mouth twisted and he pressed a hand against his abdominal pouch, just to feel the comforting press of Stark against his palm. He took a deep breath. “Alright. Let’s go.”

He was halfway through the pre-flight checks, not even ten minutes later, when the comm crackled to life. “Danvers to Stark.”

How had she known?

 _She’s probably monitoring the shuttlebay_ , Howard said, cursing as he leaned over Tony’s shoulder. _So much for everyone going back to bed._

Tony sighed. Considered forcing the shuttlebay doors open and leaving before she could stop him. The element of surprise could be quite effective – and she wouldn’t expect him to be that stupid. He just might stand a chance of getting away before the Marvel locked a tractor beam on him.

Or he’d get snagged immediately and then thrown into the brig and off the ship at the nearest starbase. And how would that help him save Steve?

With another, deeper, sigh, he sat back in his chair and tapped his commbadge. “Stark here.”

“Stark. I assume you’re seeing these readings. I’ve had Lieutenant Pym monitoring the situation and he agrees that it appears to be the beginning of a temporal event of some kind. I need you up here co-ordinating with him now.”

Tony was up and out of the shuttle before she’d even finished speaking. “I’m on my way.” His hearts began to race, mind whirring. They’d continued monitoring the readings, even though they hadn’t believed him? Maybe he’d underestimated his crew.

 _Too little, too late_ , Howard muttered beside him, as they stepped into the turbolift and it began its ascent. Tony ignored him, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited.

He rushed out onto the Bridge the second the doors whooshed open, and was shocked to see the entire alpha shift at their posts, in a flurry of activity. Pym looked over at him from the rear wall, where he was standing beside Pepper, studying the readings that were displayed on the floor-to-ceiling length display.

Tony took one look at the readings – which indicated widespread temporal distortions rippling out from a distinct epicentre – and announced, “We’re looking at the early stages of a temporal rift.”

“You can save your I told you so’s for another time, Stark,” Pym said in lieu of an actual greeting, his mouth twisted in the sour look Tony had known he’d eventually see. “What’s your plan?”

Tony wasn’t about to tell him that he had actually just been in a shuttlecraft planning a foolhardly solo venture and hadn’t seen the dramatic spike in chronitons or temporal distortions that signalled the imminent arrival of a temporal rift until this very moment. He was lucky that he was such a brilliant engineer and had twice the brainpower to process data.

“That depends on the Captain,” he said, buying himself more time as he considered and discarded potential strategies. He looked over at the centre seat, where a curtain of blonde hair was obscuring Captain Danvers’ face as she studied the data coming in on her chair’s armrest display.

“This temporal rift is still taking place over the border,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at him, her brow furrowed. “Until a ship appears that matches the description of Captain Rogers’ vessel, I can’t justify entering Cardassian space.” She saw Tony open his mouth to speak and cut him off, “But I want a plan ready to go before the ship appears.”

Tony blinked, re-evaluating his estimation of her, then nodded, turning back to study the readings.

“Luckily for us, there doesn’t seem to be any Dominion activity near this system,” Pepper said, pulling across the sector map she was examining so that it expanded to fill more of the display.

Unfortunately, she appeared to have spoken too soon. An alert began to blare from the tactical station, and Lieutenant Talos called out, “We have three Dominion ships converging on the Panora system.”

“I think our luck just ran out Commander,” Danvers said.

“Damn,” Pepper cursed, striding away from the display to take her seat beside the Captain.

Tony swore under his breath. This was exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. But even if they _had_ already crossed the border, they couldn’t have sped up the temporal rift’s appearance. “Steve’s going to be coming out into a trap.”

“Not if we can help it,” Danvers swore. “What’s your plan Stark?”

Tony took a deep breath to give himself a few extra seconds to think. “Okay, they’re going to be anticipating some sort of attack. _They_ don’t know what these readings mean, so they’ll think it’s a weapon of some kind and will go on the offensive the moment we enter the system. But we can use that to our advantage.”

Pepper frowned at him from her seat, “How? We’re going to need to drop our shields if we’re going to beam Captain Rogers off his ship, and we won’t be able to do that if they’re all firing on us.”

“Exactly,” Tony said, pointing at her, a ghost of a smile on his lips, “Which is why I’m going to make sure they won’t be firing on us.” He crossed to the bridge’s engineering console and began putting his plan into motion. “The timing on this is going to have to be perfect. But I trust Jan to fly us in and out of there before the Dominion even realise we’re the only actual target.”

“Stark, you need to share with the rest of the class if you expect us to be able to pull this off,” Captain Danvers reminded him, tone dry.

“Right, sorry, just a bit busy calibrating the deflector grid to do things it was never designed to do,” he said, unable to resist a bit of snarkiness. But at Pepper’s withering “Tony” he turned around to actually provide an explanation. “I’m setting up the Marvel’s deflector grid to create echo displacement.” At the frowns his pronouncement received, he went on, “Sorry, I’ve literally just invented it. We’re going to trick the Dominion ships’ sensors into seeing decoy images – lots of them. We’ll have them thinking an entire fleet has just warped into the system.”

Danvers frowned, “That won’t fool them for long.”

Tony nodded, “Like I said, the timing is gonna have to be perfect. We need to arrive in the system – with our decoy fleet – just after Steve’s ship emerges from the rift, that way their attention will be diverted to the rest of the fleet, and they won’t realise it’s just us until we’ve already warped back out of there.” He met the Captain’s gaze, watching her mull over the plan and realise there were no other options.

“It’s risky,” she pointed out.

“It was the plan with the highest probability of success,” he replied, meeting her gaze evenly.

She pursed her lips and blew out a breath through her nostrils. “Alright, let’s do it.” She turned back to face the viewscreen, gripping the armrests in an iron knuckled grip. “Lieutenant van Dyne, plot an intercept course for the centre of the rift, coordinate with Stark on our decoy fleet placement. Talos, I want weapons primed and those shields ready to drop on my mark. And Lieutenant Pym, you’re to let us know the second that Captain Rogers’ ship emerges and you have a positive ID. Understood?”

A chorus of assent echoed across the bridge, and Tony put all of his focus into setting up the echo displacement. He worked with Jan and Pepper to arrange the sensor echoes to carefully obscure the Marvel without making it look like they were hiding. They had to be protected by the illusion of the fleet for long enough to get their shields down, without the Dominion realising that’s what they were doing - if they had even the slightest suspicion it would be over for them.

“Chronitons and metreon radiation are building to extreme levels!” Pym called out, “I think they’re about to peak.”

“Get ready people,” Danvers said, her gaze locked with laser focus on the viewscreen.

Tony didn’t let himself get distracted by the hallucination of Howard that suddenly loomed over his shoulder, leaning against the console and staring out at the viewscreen as if he couldn’t resist being here, and witnessing these events firsthand.

Everyone seemed to collectively hold their breath, the entire bridge hushed in anticipation.

And then – “Vessel emerging from the rift! Sensors are being affected by the high levels of chroniton particles and metreon radiation!” Pym called out.

“Get me that identification Lieutenant!” Danvers ordered.

Tony’s hands were already flying over the engineering console, focusing the sensors and pushing through the obstructions so that Pym would hurry up and confirm the fucking vessel was Steve’s, as Stark knew it was.

A tense second passed and then, “The ship’s specs match the ones we have in the database!” Pym confirmed.

“Take us across the border Lieutenant!” Danvers ordered, “Maximum warp!”

The stars streaked on the viewscreen as the Marvel went into warp. Tony queued up the commands to set off the echo displacement, waiting until they were in range and then waiting another few seconds before activating the modifications to the deflector dish. As far as the Dominion was concerned, the Marvel had suddenly been joined by two dozen Starfleet ships that had been hiding outside of their sensor range.

“Dominion ships moving into defensive formation in anticipation of our fleet’s arrival,” Pepper announced, and Tony could hear the grim pleasure hidden underneath the professionalism of her tone.

“It seems they’ve bought your ruse, Stark,” Danvers said, “Let’s make sure we’re far, far away when they realise they’ve been had.”

“Gotta pick up our cargo first, Captain,” Jan quipped from the conn, not even bothering to hide her joy as she dropped them out of warp at the closest safe distance from the open temporal rift.

The viewscreen was filled with whorls of red and blue around a crooked starburst emitting blinding white light. Tony didn’t bother trying to squint past the maelstrom to see Steve’s ship, just looked down at the display on the sensors so that he could get a lock with their tractor beam.

“One of the Jem’Hadar vessels incoming!” Pepper announced.

“Commander Talos, attack pattern nova!”

“Aye, Captain,” Talos replied, launching a volley of photon torpedoes as the Jem’Hadar ship approached.

“We need to get closer,” Tony called out to Jan, frowning down at his console – the temporal distortions were affecting his signal lock. And he needed the tractor beam to boost the transporter signal, if they had any hope of getting Steve out in one piece.

“On it,” Jan replied, fingers dancing across the console and sending the Marvel into a roll that evaded the torpedoes sent to stop them from getting to whatever had come out of the rift.

With a sudden, sharp turn that the Jem’Hadar wouldn’t have been expecting a Sovereign-class vessel to be able to pull off, Jan brought the Marvel closer to the rift through the area with the least amount of temporal distortion. Tony simultaneously manoeuvred their nearest decoys to converge on the ship tailing them, buying them the extra seconds they needed.

“Have we established a tractor lock?” Danvers asked, turning to Tony with a determined frown.

“Working on it,” he replied, rerouting secondary systems in order to boost the power output before he finally ( _finally_ ) activated the tractor beam and grabbed the Orion Interceptor within the whorl of still volatile temporal distortions.

“The Dominion have seen through our decoys,” Pepper warned.

Tony tuned out the Captain’s next orders to Talos, focusing on establishing a transporter lock on the single lifesign in the cockpit of the Interceptor. He needed to adjust the transporter controls so that they would block out any temporal distortion that might be effecting Steve.

“Stark! It’s now or never!” Danvers called out.

“Drop the shields!” Tony ordered.

“Shields are down,” Talos announced. The entire bridge crackled with tension.

“Energising!” Tony yelled back, hearts thumping wildly and Howard grabbing the edge of the console in a white knuckled grip as Tony’s hand slid up the console’s transporter controls and materialised the single lifesign on the transporter pad of transporter bay one. “We have him!”

Or, at least, Tony prayed that they did. Honestly? He had no idea who, or what, they had just beamed aboard.


	3. II

“Jan, get us out of here!” the Captain ordered.

The Marvel spun around on its axis, the image on the viewscreen lurching sickeningly as the colourful fragments of the rift gave way to the consuming blackness and pinprick stars of ordinary space.

All three of the purple, insect-like Jem’Hadar ships were hurtling towards them, disruptor beams and torpedoes streaking across the gap between them. The viewscreen was filled with the flash of golden phaser beams and bursts of blue-white light from the quantum torpedoes as they returned fire.

“Captain!” Pym called out, “Our weapons appear to be destabilising the rift!”

Sure enough, when Tony looked down at the sensor readings the temporal distortions had grown even more chaotic. Whether that was a result of their proximity, energy weapons, removing Steve, or just the temporal energy dissipating, he couldn’t say with any accuracy.

Captain Danvers swore, as Jan deftly tried to evade the Jem’Hadar in order to get them far enough away from the rift that they could go to warp. This close to a temporal rift and who knows what would happen if they attempted it. Tony certainly didn’t want to find out.

Unfortunately, they might not have any say in the matter.

“Brace for impact!” Tony called out, as the rift destabilised in a sudden burst, temporal energy rushing towards them in a flash of crimson. A ribbon of azure energy lashed out toward the Dominion ships at the same time, all four of their ships getting caught in the same temporal wake.

Tony watched the very walls around them ripple before the wave of crimson energy rushed through them.

“Maria!” her best friend at the Academy called out to her – morphing into Steve’s face, bright red from too much of Howard’s homebrewed rocket fuel, laughing – which split into both of Tony’s parents beaming with pride at his graduation ceremony – who reconverged into Bucky Barnes’ face, scowling, his left eyebrow glinting metallically – which shifted, in rapid succession, through a dizzying array of strangers of various species, wearing wildly different fashion and variations of Starfleet’s delta, before he saw one final glimpse of Pepper and Rhodey with grey at their temples, rolling their eyes at him, before he came back to himself, clutching onto the edge of his console on the bridge.

“What the hell was that?” Jan asked, sounding panicked for the first time since they’d crossed the border.

“We’ll have time for questions later, Lieutenant,” Pepper reminded her.

“Yes, ma’am,” Jan agreed, already focused back on the helm.

The rift destabilising had achieved two things – one, the Jem’Hadar had stopped their attack, at least for the moment, presumably recovering from their own experience with the temporal wake – and two, with the temporal distortions already dissipating, it was a matter of moments before they were clear of any residual energy and Jan could take them to warp.

“The Attilan, Xandar and K’un-L’un are waiting for us across the border,” Talos informed them.

“What about the Jem’Hadar?” Danvers asked, “Are they following us?”

“They do not appear to be,” Talos replied.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief, though they knew things could change very quickly. They all remained vigilant at their posts, waiting until they crossed back into Federation space before they could start to relax.

“Danvers to sickbay,” the Captain said, drawing everyone’s attention. “Doctor, how’s your patient?”

Tony looked over at her, gaze sharp, he’d been so focused on his duty that he hadn’t had time to check to see what had happened to Steve – or whatever they’d beamed aboard.

“I’m happy to report that he is alive and well, Captain,” Strange announced, and Tony actually felt himself freeze, unable to believe what he was hearing. He’d hoped, and calculated probabilities, but to have confirmation? After all this time it was … overwhelming. Then Strange went on, “However, there are some … discrepancies to discuss, at your earliest convenience. I assume we’re _finally_ out of danger?”

Danvers chuckled, “We believe so, yes, Doctor. And I’m glad to see that you’ve reported no major injuries from the rest of the crew. I’ll be down as soon as we rendezvous with the rest of the border patrol. Danvers out.”

Tony had to remind himself (Howard) multiple times that he had his duty to perform, and couldn’t just rush off to sickbay to find out what on Trill these ‘discrepancies’ were. Perhaps something to do with the temporal energy – there were so many unknown variables. It would all be fascinating if there wasn’t a man’s life at the centre of it. What if Steve had been aged and was an old man? Or reverted and was a child? What if his memories had been affected? There were so many possibilities that Howard had never let himself consider.

It had seemed so simple – rescue Steve and finally be free of the burden of guilt they’d carried since leaving him behind in the first place. But he should know, better than anyone, that life was rarely as simple or straightforward as you expected.

So instead of rushing off to sickbay, Tony coordinated with the rest of his engineering staff on the repairs that were needed after the battle. He organised the repair schedule, grateful that the damage had been minor enough that they would be battle ready within twelve hours. When he sent the Captain a quick status update saying as much, she actually looked over at him and smiled.

“Good work, Stark.” Such a simple phrase, yet he felt like the words encompassed so much more than just a simple repair schedule. She’d believed him, when he’d woken her up in the middle of the night and told her that the readings he’d detected were from Captain Rogers’ ship, flung forward to this time. Even when he’d stormed off in a huff, she’d had the crew monitoring the situation, ready to act. She’d asked for him – and _trusted_ him – to come up with a plan to keep her ship safe while rescuing Steve.

And how had he repaid that faith and trust? By almost jeopardising everything by stealing a shuttlecraft. If she’d contacted him even a few minutes later, this whole thing would have gone a whole lot differently.

All because he had been actively stopping himself from trusting her.

 _What’s this? Some honest self reflection for a change?_ Maria asked, leaning against the edge of the engineering console with her arms folded.

Tony had to stop himself from snarking back at her, realising at the last second (and not before his face twitched with repressed action) that the bridge crew wouldn’t realise he wasn’t talking to the Captain.

Who was still staring at him, her expression somewhat more wary for having him staring silently back at her for goodness knows how long.

Tony cleared his throat, “Just glad we got out of there in one piece,” he said, aiming for casual but missing by a lightyear.

Her brow furrowed momentarily, no doubt reminded of all the warnings Pepper had given her before he came aboard, before she nodded back at him and returned her attention to monitoring the rest of the bridge.

There was a palpable air of relief as the Marvel dropped out of warp back in Federation space and was greeted by the other three Starfleet vessels assigned to protect this section of the border. Tony was focused on checking their inventory for spare parts, in case they needed to ask for something from one of the other ships, and wasn’t really paying attention as Captain Danvers had a brief conversation with Captain Bolt of the USS Attilan. He only tuned back in to what was happening around him when Danvers ended the communication and rose from the centre seat.

“You have the conn Commander Potts. I’ll be in sickbay,” she said. Pepper nodded, moving to sit in the vacated seat. But Danvers paused when she reached the turbolift door. “Commander Stark?”

Tony looked up, surprised to see Danvers looking over at him, eyebrow raised. “Captain?”

The eyebrow climbed higher, “I assumed you would want to accompany me.”

Tony’s eyes widened, but he didn’t need any further invitation, rushing to cross the bridge and enter the waiting turbolift before she left without him.

“Doctor Strange,” Danvers greeted their CMO as they strode into sickbay a few minutes later.

“Captain,” he returned, not looking up from where he was running a dermal regenerator over the hand of a crewman. Tony looked around the sickbay, which was bustling with doctors and nurses treating all manner of minor injuries sustained in the brief battle, but couldn’t see any sign of Steve. Strange finally finished with the crewman and strode towards them, the doctor’s coat he wore over his uniform billowing out slightly behind him. “If you’ll follow me,” he said, leading them to one of the private rooms off the main sickbay – sneaking a glance at Tony as he went. Tony hadn’t exactly gone out of his way to endear himself to the Doctor, yet another thing he was starting to regret.

The room Strange lead them to was small, with a simple privacy screen across the entrance. The noisy bustle of the sickbay was cut off as the doors whooshed closed behind them, leaving the three of them in a nearly silent space as they came around the screen and found themselves looking at an unconscious Steve Rogers, laid out on a biobed.

He looked exactly the same as the last time Stark had seen him. Handsome, square jawed, with his blond hair looking artfully tousled rather than messy from fighting and running as Tony knew it was. His maroon uniform was slightly singed and scuffed from his encounter with Schmidt and his augments, but other than that he looked to be in perfect health, at least outwardly.

Except …

“Is he taller?” Tony asked, stepping closer to the bed and trying to determine if it was simply his imagination. His memory was exceptional, but it had been almost a century …

“He is taller than his service record indicates,” Strange confirmed, sounding surprised. “But only by a few centimetres. I suppose it’s true, then, about a symbiont’s memory?”

Tony tore his gaze away from Steve to meet Strange’s, the corner of his lips quirking up, “Perfect recall,” he confirmed, “Though it is easy to misplace them, after the first century.”

“Gentleman,” Danvers cut them off, approaching Steve from the other side of the biobed. “You can discuss the intricacies of Trill memory another time. I assume this change in height is the discrepancy you were referring to, Doctor?”

Strange brushed past Tony to reach the wall monitor displaying Steve’s vitals above his biobed. “It is one of several that I have noted, Captain. DNA tests compared with those found on file confirm that this is, indeed, Captain Steven Rogers of the USS America, last seen in 2280. However, his DNA appears to have been … augmented in some way.”

Tony’s gaze snapped up to his, at that particular choice of word. “Augmented?”

Strange met his gaze evenly, “Yes. Your mission report stated that you were attempting to apprehend a Doctor Johann Schmidt and a group of genetically engineered humans, correct?”

“That’s right.”

Strange nodded, “Then I believe that this Doctor Schmidt may have altered Captain Rogers’ DNA in a similar way.”

Tony reeled back in shock. “What?!”

Strange tapped the display a few times, bringing up readings he’d taken from Steve. “As well as his increased height, Captain Rogers appears to have increased muscle density that would allow for superhuman strength, improved eyesight and hearing, and some sort of enhanced healing capacity. I’m still running tests to determine the full extent of the alterations.”

“But that doesn’t make sense,” Danvers said, frowning up at the readings and then down at Steve. “The America’s post-mission report didn’t mention anything about Schmidt altering Captain Rogers in any way.” She looked over at Tony, suspicion clear on her face.

He scowled back at her, “That’s because he didn’t! Steve was perfectly normal, the last time I – that is, the last time Howard saw him. He would have said something, if Schmidt had … injected him with something, or tried to alter him in some other way, during their fight. But there simply wasn’t time. And even if there had been, it wouldn’t make sense! Schmidt wouldn’t have wanted to give us any sort of advantage that might have helped us stop him.”

The Captain seemed satisfied by that answer, nodding thoughtfully and turning back to the Doctor. “So how do we account for these … enhancements, now? Some sort of side effect of the temporal rift?”

Strange frowned at the readings, “I don’t see how that could account for this.”

Tony snapped his fingers together suddenly, pointing at Strange, “Unless it wasn’t a side effect of the temporal energy, but from the rest of the explosion.”

“Explain,” Danvers ordered.

Tony began to pace back and forth next to Steve’s biobed. “Well, we can assume that Schmidt and the rest of his genetically engineered people were vaporised in the explosion that destroyed their base. What if – and this is just a theory mind you, and a pretty wild one at that – but what if their DNA somehow became … intermingled with Steve’s when he was caught in the blast?”

“Wild theory is right,” Strange muttered, frowning at Tony as if he’d grown a second head. But then a moment later his expression turned considering and he rubbed his beard thoughtfully, “Unless … I suppose the temporal energy in the chroniton particles and metreon radiation could have interacted with the augment DNA in some way. If that … glimpse into our personal past and possible future earlier was any indication, then the energy of the rift could theoretically have interacted with Captain Rogers in such a way that his DNA was altered at the fetal stage of development.”

Danvers’ eyes widened in disbelief, “You’re saying that the rift altered Steve’s DNA before he was born … while still inside the rift … so that he emerged as he is now.”

“As if he’d been genetically engineered in utero,” Strange agreed. He glanced over at Tony, actually looking amused, “We told you it was just a wild theory. But, as you know very well Captain, wilder things have been known to happen.” He gave her a significant look, which made Tony frown. “In any case,” Strange went on, “I cannot suggest another possibility at this time. And the end result is the same – Captain Rogers is now enhanced.” He gave the Captain yet another look, and while Tony might be missing some context, she seemed to know what he was trying to tell her with his eyes alone.

“We’ll set course immediately,” she said, nodding, then moved to leave.

Tony looked over at her. “Captain?” he asked, curious.

She looked back over her shoulder at him, “You’ll find out soon enough, along with everyone else, Commander,” she told him, before striding away.

~

“Dropping out of warp,” Jan announced from the helm.

Tony was coordinating his Engineering staff from the bridge, solely because he’d been desperately curious to find out where exactly the Captain was taking them. He’d tried wheedling the information out of Pepper, but she’d just made some pointed remarks about how he was supposed to be in main engineering and he’d gone back to the bridge’s engineering console to sulk.

“Set a course for the third moon of the seventh planet, Lieutenant,” Danvers ordered.

“Aye, Captain.”

Tony couldn’t help but glance up from his console every few minutes, watching their progress as they made their way into the system at full impulse. It felt like it was taking forever, though Tony knew it hadn’t even been twenty minutes.

“Captain, we are receiving a transmission from a facility in orbit of the third moon of the seventh planet,” Talos announced.

“On screen,” Danvers ordered.

A moment later an imposing figure filled the viewscreen. Dark-skinned, with a line of faint V-shaped ridges down the centre of his forehead, bushy slanted eyebrows and distinctively pointed ears, all of which would have been enough to take in, except that they were mere background details compared to the black eyepatch that appeared to be bolted into place over his left eye socket.

Most surprising of all, however, was the gold-edged bar displaying four pips on the man’s collar.

“Captain Danvers,” he said, quirking the eyebrow of his visible eye, “We weren’t expecting you.”

“Admiral Fury,” Danvers replied, “I apologise for the unscheduled visit, but we have a passenger onboard who needs treatment at your facility.”

Fury’s other eyebrow rose to join the first. “Well then, you’d better dock and give me a full report.” With that, he cut off the transmission.

Tony’s eyebrows rose, and he exchanged a look with an equally startled Jan.

“You heard him Lieutenant,” the Captain said. “Initiate docking procedures when we enter range of the facility.”

The pinprick light of the seventh planet in this system slowly grew on the viewscreen as they approached. Within a few minutes they were close enough to see that it was a gas giant made of swirling grey layers and jagged stretches of crimson. Its menacing, stormy visage slowly filled the viewscreen as they approached its third moon, a vibrant green jewel with twinkling lights indicating it was inhabited.

The facility in orbit of the world was like nothing Tony had seen before, in all his decades with Starfleet. An enormous hexagonal structure made up the main body of the facility, one side nothing but a huge expanse of polished duranium dotted with windows. As they made their way around to the other side, however, Tony saw that an enormous, three-sided tower-like structure extended out from the central axis of the hexagon. Three spiralling arms extended from the base of the tower, rising like miniature mountain ranges from the hexagonal surface.

As they approached, a section of the main structure, on one of its six corners, rotated out from the main body – revealing a docking arm that Jan skilfully manoeuvred them towards.

As Jan focused on the delicate docking procedure, Captain Danvers tapped the shipwide comm to speak to the whole crew. “All hands, this is the Captain speaking. We are currently docking at the Triskelion, a facility operated by Starfleet’s Hazardous Innovation, Exploration and Logistics Division. Unlike an ordinary starbase, much of the work SHIELD does is classified. Therefore it is imperative that all personnel obey the location restrictions in place when visiting the facility. Please do not leave the common and recreation areas without official orders to do so. Anybody found in a restricted area without orders will be shot. Consider this your only warning. Danvers out.”

“Shot?” Jan squeaked, when the Captain had closed the channel. “At a _Starfleet_ facility?”

Danvers frowned at her, “Need I remind you Lieutenant that we are currently at war? SHIELD takes its security _very_ seriously, especially with the risk of changeling infiltration.”

Tony frowned, he’d never even heard of this Hazardous Innovation, Exploration and Logistics Division. But it couldn’t exactly be top secret if the Captain had brought the entire ship here and was telling them about it. Still, it bothered Tony that he didn’t know what this division was, but that they were specifically bringing Steve here.

Before he had a chance to puzzle anything out further, the Captain had risen from her chair. “Commander Potts, I’d like you to accompany me to the facility so that you can arrange shore leave for the crew. Aspida isn’t exactly Risa, but it’ll do the crew some good to stretch their legs and breathe some fresh air, even if it’s only for a day,” she said. Pepper rose from her seat and joined the Captain as they made their way across to the turbolift. “And I’ll need you to accompany me as well Commander Stark,” Danvers called out, as the turbolift doors whooshed open.

Tony followed, practically buzzing with excitement as they made their way down to the Marvel’s starboard airlock, the Captain and Pepper continuing to make arrangements for the brief shore leave.

He was shocked to see the Admiral himself waiting for them when they stepped out of the airlock.

“Captain Danvers, Commander Potts, Lieutenant Commander Stark,” Fury greeted them, his good eye staring at each of them in turn, “Welcome to the Triskelion.” He gestured to the Human woman next to him, “If you’d please allow Commander Hill to take a blood sample, so we can be sure we are all who we say we are.”

“Of course,” the Captain agreed, not even watching as Hill pressed a hypospray to her upper arm. It only took a matter of moments for Pepper and Tony to have their blood drawn and checked, then Fury carried on as if nothing had happened.

“Commander Potts, if you would please follow Commander Hill, she will be your liaison for the duration of your stay.”

Pepper nodded at the Captain before turning to greet Hill, the two of them getting straight into discussing the shore leave arrangements as they walked away.

“So,” Tony said, turning back from where he’d been watching them to look at the Admiral. “You seem to know who I am already, but I can’t say that I’ve ever heard of SHIELD – or you.”

Fury stared him down in a way that Tony probably would have found intimidating if he hadn’t spent decades as a diplomat. Since he had, he just quirked an eyebrow expectantly. The barest section of Fury’s mouth twitched in what Stark thought passed for a smirk. “That would be because you’ve spent the past two decades as an engineer, rather than in Starfleet Intelligence,” he said.

Tony wasn’t sure which of his questions that was supposed to be an answer to, and was going to say as much, but Fury turned to Danvers and tilted his head in a way that must have signalled he wanted her to speak, because they promptly ignored Tony entirely and began making their way down the corridor in the opposite direction to where Pepper and Hill had gone. He followed, assuming they’d have sent him elsewhere if they hadn’t wanted him to.

“I need to arrange the transfer of a passenger to your medical facility,” the Captain began.

“This ‘passenger’ being?” Fury asked.

The corners of Danvers’ lips rose, she looked absolutely delighted to be the one with information to share (Tony could already see why). “Just someone we picked up, a long way from home.”

“Captain,” Fury said, unimpressed.

Danvers’ face settled from teasing into genuine, though her tone was still nonchalant when she told him: “Captain Steven Rogers of the USS America.”

Fury stopped in his tracks, and Tony almost ran into the back of him. The Admiral whirled back around to Tony, his face seeming genuinely shocked. “You actually found him?”

Tony folded his arms across his chest and gave the man his best unimpressed look. “Funny what us simple engineers can do, isn’t it?”

Fury huffed out what must have passed for a laugh. “I think you’ve gotten the wrong idea here, Commander.”

Tony rolled his eyes at him, “Well then, by all means, enlighten me.”

Fury gestured to the corridor ahead and they continued. “Starfleet’s Hazardous Innovation, Exploration and Logistics Division is largely made up of engineers – engineers and scientists, collected from all across the Federation. Chosen not just because they’re the best and brightest, but because they have something … unique to offer.” They stepped into a turbolift, which immediately began to move at a pace far faster than what was necessary on a starship, to traverse the greater distances of the starbase. “You see Commander, this division – and this facility – was set up for one purpose, and one purpose only: to develop new technology to defend the Federation against current and potential threats.”

Tony frowned, then quirked an eyebrow, “And this is different from Starfleet’s other research divisions how, exactly?”

It was Captain Danvers who answered, Tony’s attention snapping to her as she held up her right hand – and her clenched fist began to glow with a golden light. “Because this facility is run by and for people who are one-of-a-kind in the Federation,” she replied, her fist growing brighter – and Tony took a single step back, his hearts beginning to race as panic twisted its way up into his throat – before it suddenly dissipated and she unclenched her hand to wiggle her fingers.

“What-?” Tony rasped out, momentarily terrified that he’d stumbled into some sort of conspiracy.

“Captain Danvers was the first such individual I encountered, early in my career,” the Admiral said, still standing calmly beside her as if nothing had happened.

“There was an accident with an ancient Kree artefact on what we believe to be their former homeworld,” Danvers explained, looking at him calmly. “My DNA was fused with it, and I gained certain … abilities that we believe the Kree possessed. Admiral Fury was the one who helped me understand what had happened and gain control over my new abilities – and we’ve worked together since then to help other individuals in similar situations.”

Tony’s brow furrowed as he studied her, re-evaluating her behaviour over the months they’d served together, trying to see if there were any signs of these Kree abilities that he’d missed. But if she hadn’t told him, he’d have gone on thinking she was an ordinary human. “So this division of yours was set up to … use the abilities of people like you for the benefit of the Federation?” he asked, looking between Fury and Danvers.

“To _study_ them and see if any aspects can be incorporated into existing Federation technology – or in the development of new technology,” Fury corrected.

“And all members of SHIELD are here by _choice_ ,” the Captain added, her expression serious. “In some cases it’s because they believe themselves to be a danger to others. In others, because unscrupulous individuals have been a danger to them. But the majority of our personnel are unenhanced individuals who were invited to join the division due to their talents and creativity.”

Tony considered this for a moment, then scowled, “So where was my invitation? Lost in subspace I suppose?”

“This facility only came online in 2370 Commander Stark,” Fury replied. “Your invitation was ready to be delivered, _you’re_ the one who attempted to resign your commission and dropped off the grid for three years.” The eyebrow of his good eye rose. “It was decided that we ought to wait until you were ready to be part of the bigger universe again … but it seems that circumstances have forced all of our hands. So we’re extending the invitation to you now.”

Tony blinked, startled. “Just like that?”

Fury smirked at him. “Just like that.”

“Then I accept.” Then he turned to Captain Danvers and quirked an eyebrow. “And, just for the record, I assume these Kree abilities are more than just being able to make your fists glow?”

Danvers rolled her eyes at him. “They are,” she confirmed, tone sarcastic, “I just didn’t want to blast a hole in our turbolift car while we were standing in it.”

Startled, Tony glanced down at her hands (once again looking perfectly ordinary) then back up at her face. She smirked at him.

“Now that that’s settled,” Fury said, as the turbolift car began to rise vertically. “If we could return to the issue of Captain Rogers. I assume there’s a reason beyond his being brought forward in time that warranted you bringing him here?” he asked Danvers. The Captain gave a report of Doctor Strange’s findings, and Tony watched Fury’s face, curious to see his reaction – and even more curious when his reaction was to have no reaction at all other than to nod once when she’d finished speaking. “Stephen made the right call, this will be the best place for him until we can determine exactly what his trip through this temporal rift has done to him.”

“And once you have determined its effects?” Tony asked, remembering what Danvers had said about people choosing to remain at SHIELD for the safety of others and frowning.

Fury met his gaze evenly, “Without knowing more about them, I really can’t say anything with complete certainly. But – assuming that they pose no danger to others and that Captain Rogers can maintain control over any new abilities they may have caused – he will of course be free to leave, or do whatever he wants. If he _is_ a danger to others, or his abilities prove too unstable, then he will have to remain here until a viable solution has been reached.”

Tony felt his shoulders relax. If Fury had given him some bullshit about Steve being free to go no matter what then Tony would have remained suspicious, but his honesty convinced Stark of his trustworthiness.

Then something else tweaked in his mind. “Wait, you know Doctor Strange?” he asked, remembering that Fury had used his first name.

“The Doctor spent time with SHIELD, before Captain Danvers requested him as her chief medical officer,” Fury replied, smoothly.

Tony’s mind immediately raced through all of his (admittedly brief) interactions with Strange, trying to determine if he’d shown any signs of being enhanced. But as with the Captain, nothing immediately flagged itself as unusual. Not that that meant anything.

“Speaking of which,” Danvers said, as their turbolift finally slowed down as they presumably reached their destination. “I’ll arrange to have him transfer Captain Rogers to your medical facility.”

Fury nodded, tapping his commbadge and discussing the matter briefly with his own medical staff, while the Captain did the same.

“Now,” Fury said, when they were done, as he moved towards the turbolift door. “Let me give you the tour Commander.”

The doors whooshed open to reveal the operations centre of the Triskelion, a cavernous room bustling with activity, the décor even more sparse than most Starfleet facilities, all polished black and matte grey. Fury started rattling off specifications as he strode through the centre of the room, operations personnel parting in his wake. Apparently the starbase could accommodate a crew of three thousand, though it currently only had a third of that. The upper sections of the central tower contained the main recreation and common areas, with the middle sections home to the crew and guest quarters, while the three spiralling arms housed the many laboratories and workshops where research was conducted.

“As a member of SHIELD, you will have open access to our database while you’re on the Triskelion. But if you wish to download any of the information, particularly about our ongoing research, for personal access after you’ve left the facility, then you must clear it with Commander Hill first,” Fury said, as one his officers approached, glancing at them curiously before leaning forward to murmur in his ear. The Admiral straightened up. “I’m afraid the tour is going to have to be cut short. I have another matter to attend to,” he said, then turned to Danvers, “Perhaps you’d like to take over, and make some introductions?”

She nodded, then tilted her head to the side, gesturing for Tony to follow her. “Come on Stark, I’ll show you the best place to get a drink around here. They just call it the Lounge.”

They made their way out of Ops and into another turbolift. It was only a matter of moments before it deposited them in the middle of a spacious lounge that filled this entire floor of the tower. Its décor was similar to the operations centre, minimal and dark, but this recreational space was at least brightened up with jewel-toned seating areas and neatly contained plants. The view was clearly the main feature of the place – an enormous floor to ceiling transparent aluminium window stretched around the circumference of the room, offering an incredible view of the emerald green moon above them, no matter where the facility was in its orbit.

The Captain made a beeline for the bar, a 360 degree ring in the centre of the room that provided guests with an unobstructed view. The bartender who saw her approach clearly recognised her, his face lighting up. “Captain Marvel! You’re back! It’s been, wow, how long has it been? Definitely a few months at least, right? It has to have been – because, wow, so much has happened.”

Danvers chuckled. “You’ll have to tell me about it another time Luis, I’m here to show my chief engineer around.”

Luis blinked over at him, then his mouth widened into an even bigger grin. “Hey man, how are you? I’m Luis.” He did a little wave and Tony had to suppress a laugh.

“Tony Stark.”

For a second Luis froze, as if he recognised the name, which made Tony freeze up in return, wondering if there were rumours about him in the wider fleet, or SHIELD in particular, but then another blink later and Luis was nodding. “Cool, cool. So, what can I get you?”

Tony blinked back at him a few times, disoriented. “I’ll have a black hole,” he replied, after a moment.

Luis looked over at the Captain, and the corner of her mouth rose.

“Romulan ale.”

Tony’s eyebrows went up at the order, since it wasn’t exactly legal in the Federation, but Luis just gave her a wink. “Coming right up.”

Tony looked around the lounge, as Luis poured their drinks, noticing that while most of the patrons were here in couples or by themselves, a small group of people were sitting in a comfortable looking, u-shaped seating area with the best view of the moon.

“Ah, perfect,” Danvers said, as Luis handed over a short glass of fluorescent blue liquid to her. Tony also murmured his thanks as his pitch black drink was handed to him. “Come on Stark,” the Captain said, as she made her way towards the group he’d just been observing. “I apologise for interrupting,” she said as they approached, “But I wanted to introduce some of you to Commander Stark, my chief engineer – he’s just joined us here at SHIELD.”

An incredibly tall man with what Tony could only describe as long, flowing blond hair, wearing a truly regal uniform with an honest to goodness cape, rose from his seat and greeted Danvers warmly. “Captain of Marvel! It is a pleasure to see you again, and looking as radiant as ever,” he announced, sweeping his face down to kiss the back of her hand.

Tony’s eyebrows were halfway up his forehead, but Stark’s diplomatic instincts kicked in when the man turned to greet him, and he schooled his face into a neutral, pleasant expression.

“Greetings, friend Stark, I am Thor of Asgard,” he said, holding out his hand in the Human custom.

“Please, call me Tony,” he replied, placing his hand in Thor’s and receiving an incredibly firm handshake.

“Friend Tony,” Thor immediately said, grinning wildly, then gestured for both Danvers and Tony to sit down beside him, “Please, allow me to introduce you to my dear friends, Doctor Jane Foster, and her assistant Darcy Lewis.”

The two women smiled at him, the young Trill one in the middle of taking a sip of her drink.

Thor went on, “And their colleague Doctor Banner.”

“Bruce,” the man on the end said, raising his glass in greeting. He looked Human at first glance, but when he leaned forward to address Tony there was a green tinge to his skin that suggested some Orion ancestry. “Am I correct in thinking you’re the Commander Stark who’s been revolutionising nanotechnology for the past two years?”

Tony felt himself smiling involuntarily at the question. It’d been a while since he’d been around his kind of people (longer still since he’d been around people who were actually excited by his work, Stark reminded him with a flash of memory from that fateful conference, and Tony fought back a cringe).

But before he could reply in the affirmative, Danvers leaned past him. “That’s right,” she said, “He’s also just discovered a temporal rift in the Almatha sector, which I’m sure Doctor Foster will want to hear all about.”

Foster’s eyes lit up at the mention of the rift, though Tony was surprised the Captain had brought it up. He shot her a confused glance over his shoulder, but she smiled reassuringly. “News travels fast around here, and I doubt Admiral Fury could keep this news classified even if he wanted to.”

“News about what?” Lewis said, leaning forward eagerly. Tony knew a gossip when he saw one, she’d probably be responsible for everyone in the Triskelion knowing the news by the end of the day, he thought with a mental laugh.

Tony cleared his throat, not wanting the Captain to steal his thunder, since she’d already shared the news about the rift. “We’ve found Steve Rogers,” he announced, still feeling surreal as he said it aloud. He half expected to wake up and find this had all been an elaborate dream.

Lewis blinked at him, “Who?” Which wasn’t exactly the reaction he was hoping for, but then she was a fellow Trill, and not in Starfleet, so he supposed she couldn’t be expected to know about a famous Starfleet Captain who went missing a century ago.

Bruce, on the other hand, goggled at him, “ _Captain_ Rogers? Of the America?”

“That’s right.”

“But wasn’t he declared missing, what, a century ago?” Foster asked, eyes wide and eager – probably dying to get her hands on the readings from the rift, if he knew a fellow scientist.

Thor frowned around at them, seemingly confused, “You have found a fellow Captain of your Star Fleet who was lost in time?”

Doctor Foster turned to him and began eagerly explaining – and Tony was shocked to hear some of his own theories being repeated. Had she been at that awful conference?

Before he had a chance to figure out how he was supposed to feel about that (she clearly wasn’t looking on him with pity now, which was something), the Captain’s commbadge chirped and Doctor Strange’s voice came out of it. “Captain, please report to medical facility alpha, Captain Rogers is waking up.”

“On my way,” Danvers replied, tapping the badge and leaving her glass half full as she rose. “Sorry to rush off like this,” she apologised to the group, “We’ll have to catch up another time.”

“No apology necessary,” Thor replied, still grinning, “You will have to tell us how the fair Captain fares when you return.”

Tony drained his glass in one go and stood, needing the liquid courage to face seeing Steve again, properly, after all this time.

“Come back and share your findings?” Doctor Foster asked, as he turned to go.

He forced a smile onto his face, ignoring the anxious squirming in his stomach, and nodded. “Absolutely. I’d love to hear your thoughts. And to discuss nanotechnology with you, Doctor Banner,” he added.

Then he followed the Captain back across the lounge to the turbolift.

But as the turbolift doors opened in front of them, she turned back to face him, frowning. “I’m not sure you should be here for this, Stark.”

Tony frowned back at her. “I’m the only person here he knows,” he pointed out.

“No, you’re _half_ of the only person here he knows,” she countered.

“That’s still half more than anyone else.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “The Joined nature of the Trill wasn’t public knowledge in 2280. _Did_ Captain Rogers know you were Joined?”

Tony winced. “… He did not.”

“While I’m sure you want to fill him in on the truth, I don’t think right now is the best time for that. He’s going to have enough trouble accepting the fact that he’s in the future, and that this isn’t some hallucination or hologram or some other trick, without you adding another difficult truth to the mix.”

Tony sighed. “I … suppose you make a good point.”

Her face softened, “I’m sorry Stark. I’m sure once the shock has worn off he’ll be glad to know the truth. I know _I’d_ be happy to still have a friend, if I woke up a century from today.”

Tony nodded, thoughtful. “You’ll call if you need me?” he asked, even though they both knew she’d have no reason to call him.

But she smiled, crookedly, “Absolutely.”

Then she turned and stepped across the threshold, and he sighed as the doors whooshed closed behind her.

 _I can’t believe you!_ Howard snapped at him, stepping out from behind Tony with a glower. _There’s still time, you can make her see reason! You need to be there!_

Tony sighed. “No, we don’t. We’ll see him when he’s adjusted to the whole, suddenly in the future, thing.”

He just stood there for another minute, trying to convince himself not to do anything stupid like go after her. With a frustrated huff, he turned back around, plastered a smile on his face that he didn’t feel, and went to rejoin the group by the window – at the very least, he could distract himself from the situation with science.

~

Howard ran down the corridor, his footsteps echoing on the harsh metal grating of the deck plates. His pulse was racing, breath caught in his throat as he ran, legs pumping but never quite able to keep him out of the grasp of metallic fingers.

It didn’t matter how long, or how fast, he ran, eventually they caught him. Hands locked around his limbs, pulling him bodily back until he was suspended between them, their grey, lifeless faces staring down at him, thin pinpricks of red light shining from their ocular implants.

The assimilation tubules punctured his neck, heat and electricity zapping along his nerves as the nanoprobes flooded his system, replaced with an icy, glacial, _freezing_ cold that spread from his core to his extremities.

“Howard!” a voice echoed in his mind, so familiar. Yet he couldn’t quite place it.

The voices of the Collective swarmed in around him, drowning out that single voice in a roar – a torrential downpour of pleas and rage as thousands of voices called out to him. His body dissolved, absorbed into the whole, the Hive, until all that was left was his mind, buffeted by the currents and tossed about in the winds.

Yet, underneath it all, clawing out, desperate to be heard, was the familiar voice. And with it, a glimpse of a face – so, _so_ familiar – calling out to him, “Help me, please, _Stark_!”

With a gasp Tony woke, body jolting upright, as he had so many nights before.

“JARVIS! Lights!” he called, blinking rapidly against the glare as his quarters were flooded with illumination. The dream was already fading away, the corridors of the Borg diamond as familiar to him as the cockpit of that Orion Interceptor, every inch of each place burned into his memories and relived, night after night, in these damned dreams.

Tony scrubbed both hands over his face, groaning. With a sigh he shoved off the blankets, stumbling into the fresher for a quick sonic shower. He wasn’t going to get anymore sleep tonight.

Instead of going to his lab or engineering, however, Tony found himself at the airlock to the Triskelion. He’d kept himself busy, for the past twenty four hours, discussing the finer points of nanotech and temporal rifts and even answering some of Thor’s questions about Joined Trill, before he returned to the Marvel to oversee the repairs and distract himself. But surely going back to the Lounge would be alright – maybe he’d even run into Doctor Banner or Foster again and have the even better distraction of another engaging conversation.

Or, maybe not, he thought as he stepped out into the almost deserted lounge. He’d forgotten that it was the middle of the night.

There was no bartender on duty at this hour, so he forwent having a drink and made his way over to the u-shaped seating area, not realising until he was already there that it was already occupied by a solitary figure.

It was a testament to how distracted Tony was, after his nightmare, that he didn’t even realise who he’d sat down next to until the other man turned to him and he blurted out, “Steve?” without thinking.

Steve startled, his eyebrows raised. “That’s right. Captain Steve Rogers. I guess news has spread about me already, huh?”

Tony ignored the crushing feeling of disappointment that crashed over him. Of course he couldn’t expect Steve to recognise him, it wasn’t like it was obvious he was Stark, especially to a man who didn’t even know about symbionts.

So he went along with it, taking Captain Danvers’ advice to heart, and let out an incredibly awkward laugh. “You know how these things are – nothing travels faster at warp than gossip.”

Steve chuckled back, though Tony could tell his heart wasn’t really in it, “I guess some things haven’t changed, at least.” His fist clenched, briefly, at that and he looked out the window. He was dressed in a pretty nondescript blue jumpsuit, the sort of thing Starfleet Doctors liked to shove you in when you didn’t have any decent clothes of your own. But the rest of him looked exactly as Stark remembered: broad shoulders, chiselled jaw, blond hair in the same late 2270s style that Howard was always giving him shit about. His blue eyes reflected the green glow of the moon on the other side of the transparent aluminium, but also a haunted, desperate look that reminded Stark of what Tony saw in the mirror every night when he woke.

He looked back over at Tony, brow creased, and he quickly realised how it must look to Steve – some random Trill man staring at you in some strange starbase lounge in the middle of the night. So he quickly moved his gaze to the window and spoke. “It must be a lot to take in,” he said, drumming his fingers absently against his knee as he studied the forests on the surface of Aspida. “Ninety-three years is a long time.” He would know, having lived through them.

Steve sighed. “Honestly? It’s still kind of hard to believe. I keep expecting to wake up in my own sickbay.”

Tony swallowed hard, at that – he could picture the scene perfectly: Doctor Erskine fussing, Howard and Bucky and Peggy teasing Steve and giving him shit about getting knocked out, until Erskine shooed them out. But he also knew that it hadn’t happened that way, no matter how much Steve might want it to.

“Yeah, I get that. Captain Danvers said you’d probably think it was a hallucination or a holodeck simulation or something. Not that holotech was that well developed in your time.”

Steve looked over at him, his head tilted as he studied Tony’s face. It was such a familiar look that Tony’s throat felt suddenly tight from the flashes of memory of all the times Steve had given this particular look to a puzzling problem or person in the past. “Sounds like she had me all figured out,” Steve said, carefully, and Tony could tell he still wasn’t sure that it _wasn’t_ some kind of trick. “Though you’re right about the holotechnology, they tell me it’s on every starship and base now.”

Tony nodded, “Makes the old virtual reality sets look like crap – you’d swear you were standing on the boardwalk at Coney Island, listening to the waves, though they can never get the smell quite right.”

Steve was still for a long moment, long enough for Tony to realise his mistake. “I’m sorry, who did you say you were again?” he asked, voice wary and tight in a way that made anxiety flutter in the pit of Tony’s stomach.

The last thing he wanted was for Steve to think that he was part of some … plot to manipulate him. Blabbing out things only someone who knew Steve would know (like his fondness for Earth’s Coney Island) was sure to give him the wrong idea. He let out another awkward laugh, “I didn’t say, sorry. I’m-“ he stumbled over his own name “-the Marvel’s chief engineer.”

Steve’s brow furrowed further, and he just waited a beat, clearly trying to decide how he was supposed to act on his suspicions. When he felt him start to tense up, Tony let out a huge sigh, dropping his head and rubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Fuck,” he exhaled, “I wasn’t supposed to drop this on you so soon. The Captain wouldn’t even let me be in the room after you woke up, didn’t want me confusing you anymore than you already were.”

Steve’s frown still looked suspicious when he looked over at him. “Would you just tell me who you are?” he asked, jaw tight, cutting straight to the point as always.

Tony inhaled deeply, then let it out in a noisy exhalation before straightening up and meeting Steve’s gaze. “I’m Tony Stark.”

Steve blinked at him, rapidly, before his face opened up in something like relief, “Oh! Stark! You must be Howard’s son? Why didn’t you just say so?”

Tony winced. “Uh, sorry, no, not his son.”

The frown returned. “Then I don’t understand.”

Tony had gotten used to explaining Stark to fellow Starfleet officers after the incident with Ambassador Odan on the Enterprise made the Joined nature of the Trill common knowledge in the Federation. And Maria had shared the secret of the symbionts on a handful of occasions. So why was this conversation making him tense up?

 _Maybe because I spent years lying to him about it?_ Howard offered, sitting across from Steve and making Tony’s eyes dart to him for a moment before he remembered himself.

“Uh, okay, well, you see, the thing is,” Tony rambled, eyes skittering away from Steve’s expectant face and bouncing off Howard again. “My government – that is, the Trill people – up until really recently, like I’m talking only, five or six years now, had kept a … a secret, I guess you could call it, from the rest of the Federation. It was sort of a, need to know, sort of thing.” Tony’s fingers tapped out a staccato rhythm against his knee, as his gaze darted back to Steve and then away again. He stumbled over his next words. “You see. We, uh, we’re a Joined species – that is, we’re actually two separate species who live together in symbiosis. The humanoid species are the hosts, while the vermiform species are the symbionts. That is to say, we have, some of us – a very select few actually – have symbionts inside us.” His hand curved over his abdomen, reflexively, thumb brushing over the fabric of his uniform, where his abdominal pouch was. “These symbionts share the memories, and personalities, of past hosts with the current host. Allowing us to gain the skills and knowledge of our previous hosts. But it’s not like we can just access these memories like a, like a database, no – when a host is Joined to a symbiont we become an entirely new person. Hence, symbiosis.”

He looked back over at Steve, who was still frowning at him, maybe even more heavily than before. “I’m sorry, are you saying that you have some sort of – of _parasite_ living inside you?” he asked, eyes dropping down to scan Tony’s body as if it would be visible.

Tony’s hand jerked away from his abdominal pouch and he felt himself flush. He knew Steve wasn’t trying to be offensive, but his disgusted tone had brought his hackles up. He hadn’t expected Steve to take it like this – decorated Starfleet Captains were usually more understanding of alien lifeforms than most, but maybe he was just misunderstanding. “No,” he replied, firmly, “Our symbionts are _not_ parasites. The entire process is completely consensual. It’s considered the highest honour in our society.”

He could see from the look on Steve’s face that he was having a hard time believing that. He’d experienced his fair share of revulsion from other species, many of whom seemed to have a strange aversion to other lifeforms entering their bodies, despite their bodies being made up of countless microorganisms. But seeing it from Steve? An uncomfortable knot rose into Tony’s throat.

“I see. And you’re trying to tell me that … that Howard was one of these Joined Trill? One of these symbionts?” Steve asked, looking deeply uncomfortable.

Tony shook his head, “Howard was a host. Stark is the symbiont. It was Joined to another host when Howard died, her name was Maria. And then when she died, it was Joined to me. We use the symbiont’s name in place of our surname, once we’re Joined.”

Steve had tensed up, was staring at Tony with the worst version of the puzzled face he’d ever seen, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You’re telling me that you’re … that _you_ have all of Howard’s memories?” he asked, sounding horrified.

Which was totally not the reaction Tony was expecting, but that was okay, he could salvage this. He tried for one of Howard’s charming smiles, as if he could prove it to Steve that way. “That’s right. I know this is a lot to take in, but really, when you think about it, it’s great news – it means you haven’t lost everyone you knew after all!”

Steve stared at him, his face shuttered, and Tony watched as his jaw clenched. “I don’t know you,” he bit out, “And it turns out that I didn’t know Howard Stark at all. So, no, I don’t think it’s great news. Quite the opposite.”

And with that, he rose from his seat and strode away. Tony gaped after him.

 _Are you_ kidding _me?_ Howard demanded, glowering at him, _What did you say that for? You’re supposed to ease him into this! I can’t believe you fucked this up!_

“Maybe if _you_ hadn’t lied to him in the first place!” Tony snapped, before freezing. Thanking any deities out there that the Lounge was empty, Tony pushed himself off the seat and stalked over to the turbolift.

~

When Captain Danvers announced over the shipwide comm the next morning that the Marvel had been ordered back to the front, Tony was actually grateful. At least he couldn’t make a bigger mess of things than he already had.


	4. III

2374

Tony was being buffeted on all sides, the crowd a mass of jostling, chaotic bodies that cheered and hollered and whooped, moving all as one in a wave of motion as they spilled out of the airlock and down the corridor, a cluster at a time stepping onto the turbolift and then being carried, at considerable speed, to the top of the Triskelion’s tower.

He stumbled out, pushed along by the rest of the group, into the Spire – the multi-storey recreation hall that filled the top three floors of the tower – which was currently occupied by a significant portion of the celebrating crews of at least three Starfleet vessels, including the Marvel.

Tony had felt considerable anxiety, when Captain Danvers announced that they were returning to the Triskelion for the first time in months for some well-deserved shore leave, as the Marvel underwent substantial repairs after the battle they’d just survived. He hadn’t heard from, or tried to speak to, Steve since that awful night, and had no idea whether he was still at the Triskelion or not. He didn’t exactly want to find out, given how poorly things gone between them. He’d only just managed to get Howard to stop hassling him.

The crew’s elation from the victory, however, had pushed the anxiety to the back of his mind. They’d survived near certain defeat in the most staggering victory Stark had ever seen. That was worth celebrating.

“Commander Stark!” a familiar voice called out, as he approached the bar in search of a drink.

“Luis?” he asked, when he saw the bartender, surprised that the other man even remembered his name considering they’d only met the once. “Shouldn’t you be in the Lounge?”

“Nah, man, I wanted to be here, where all the action is! Operation Return was, well, a return! We won! Deep Space Nine is ours again!” he cheered, almost knocking over a bottle with his enthusiastic hand motions.

Tony laughed, “It is. The First help us, I still don’t know how Captain Sisko did it, but it is.”

Luis leaned forward, “Is it true that he talked the wormhole aliens into wiping out an entire Dominion fleet?”

Tony shrugged. “That’s what they say. All I know is, we all saw the Defiant go in – and then a few minutes later, it came back out. Alone. I’ve never seen anything like it, and I’m like, two hundred years old.”

“Yeah?” Luis leaned back, looking impressed, “You don’t look a day over a hundred man.”

Tony snorted out a laugh, then ordered his drink, a crowd of impatient people already starting to form around him. He gave Luis a nod and a smile, as the bartender was immediately swamped with orders, after handing Tony his arcturian fizz.

He let himself drift through the crowd, away from the bar and up the stairs to one of the marginally less busy seating areas, which looked like it was occupied by some of the crew from one of the other ships docked here. They’d all arrived within hours of each other, the Marvel slightly slower because of some minor damage to her warp engines.

He was about to keep drifting past, look for some of his own crew, maybe share a drink with his engineers before the repair work began tomorrow, when he heard a voice he hadn’t heard in far too long.

“Talk about timing, if those Klingons had been even a few minutes later, well, I don’t even want to know what might have happened,” he was saying, as Tony gently pushed his way through the crowd gathered around him.

“Platypus!” he called out, opening his arms wide and almost sloshing his drink over a poor ensign in his excitement.

Rhodey looked over from the crewmembers he was talking to, surprised, and then his face lit up. “Tony!” He rose from his seat and pulled Tony into a tight, fierce hug, slapping him on the back in a way that indicated he’d been drinking here for a while. “I don’t believe this! What the hell are you doing here?”

Tony took the seat next to Rhodey, that had somehow remained unoccupied despite how crowded this place was, and lifted his glass. “Celebrating our victory, same as you.”

Rhodey rolled his eyes at him, “You never could resist a party Stark. But seriously, why are you here? Are you working for SHIELD now or what?”

Tony frowned at him, lowering his glass from his lips to stare at Rhodey. He knew he hadn’t exactly kept in touch, but he’d kind of assumed Pepper would have kept him informed. “Technically I have joined SHIELD, but I’m not working for them while we’re in the middle of this war. I’m the Marvel’s chief engineer. We were part of Operation Return, same as you.”

Rhodey gaped at him, “What the hell man? You’re back on active duty and you didn’t bother to tell me?!”

Tony winced, “Sorry. It’s been a crazy few months. Well, shit, almost six months now, actually, since Pepper asked me to come back. You know how it’s been. I was starting to think we weren’t going to win this war, the way things were headed – but with the wormhole back under our control …”

Rhodey exhaled, picking up his drink and taking a sip, “Yeah, seems like the gods themselves are on our side, if the stories about Captain Sisko are to be believed.”

“I’ve seen crazier things,” Tony said, sipping from his own drink. “So … where are you serving at the moment?”

“I’m the first officer on the Patriot,” Rhodey replied.

Tony’s eyebrows rose, “They haven’t given you your own ship yet? I don’t know what the hell the brass are thinking, we need all the best captains we can get, if we’re going to have any hope of defeating the Dominion. So who’re you under? Phillips?”

Rhodey shook his head, “Nah, he’s an admiral now. You won’t believe this though, our Captain is-“

“Commander Stark,” a painfully familiar voice said, from behind Tony. “You’re in my chair.”

Steve stood, awkwardly, beside his chair, a fresh drink clutched in his hand.

Tony swallowed, immediately rising, feeling his hearts starting to race. “Sorry Cap – uh, Captain Rogers. I’ll go.”

“What?” Rhodey asked, rising from his chair beside him and looking between the two.

Tony had barely made it a step away when Steve’s hand landed on his forearm. “No, wait, uh, please, stay,” he said, glancing around at the other crewmembers surrounding them, obviously aware of the fact that they had an audience.

“Here, sir,” one of the junior officers on the chair beside him said, standing, “I was just about to get another drink anyway.”

Tony’s face twitched, as he caught himself about to wince, and he quickly plastered a smile on his face. “Thank you, Lieutenant,” he said, taking the offered seat.

Steve seemed just as tense, as he sat down beside him, and Rhodey gave them both another searching look before he sat back down. “As I was just saying, Tony, I’ve been serving with Captain Rogers,” Rhodey said, his gaze darting to Steve for a second before it returned to Tony. “I didn’t realise you two … well, obviously I knew you had history, through Stark, but I didn’t realise you’d met since then.”

Tony’s smile turned brittle, though he kept his tone as normal as possible – Rhodey would be able to tell, but as Steve had so aptly said, months ago, he didn’t know Tony, and therefore wouldn’t. “Yeah, my fault for not keeping in touch. I was actually on the Marvel when we found Captain Rogers’ ship.”

Rhodey’s eyes widened slightly, “Oh, damn, I should have known,” he breathed, then chuckled, shaking his head, “Now I feel like a real idiot. Pepper said it was your program that found the temporal rift. I just didn’t realise that was because you were on board, running it – but who else would it be?”

Steve’s gaze snapped to him, at that, his expression startled, before he looked away again.

It was entirely possible that, given how badly things had gone between them, Tony had gone out of his way to dissuade the rumours that he’d been responsible for finding Steve. He didn’t want the man to feel like he owed him, or anything like that. Seeing how discomfited he was now confirmed that he’d made the right call.

“Like I said,” Tony replied, trying to keep his tone blasé, “My fault for not keeping in touch.” By the First, he just wanted to get out of here so he could stop feeling Steve’s uncomfortable gaze on him. Luckily, he knew the perfect way to make his exit. He cleared his throat, calling upon all of Stark’s charisma, well-honed over the decades by Maria, then went on, “It’s even more unforgivable during a war, I know. Feels like almost every day I hear about yet another friend I’ve lost to the Dominion, and every single time I think, damn, why didn’t I reach out? How did I let so much time pass?” He shook his head, exhaling heavily, then held his glass up and looked around at the crewmembers around him, “Now, more than ever, we need to cherish the people we have around us, because we never know what tomorrow will bring. Tonight, we celebrate a great triumph for the Federation, but we cannot forget those who didn’t make it back, to celebrate with us.” He raised his glass, “To absent friends!”

“Absent friends,” the crowd around him murmured, including Rhodey and Steve beside him.

Tony ignored Steve’s piercing gaze boring into him after that little speech, tossed back the rest of his drink in one go, then placed his glass on the low table in front of them, and rose. “Well, speaking of absent friends, I’d better go and check on my engineers. We’ve got a lot of repair work ahead of us, to get the Marvel back in fighting form, and I can’t have any mistakes because we celebrated too hard tonight,” he said, with a chuckle that was answered by a few of the Patriot’s crew. Then he stepped around and clasped Rhodey on the shoulder, “I promise Rhodey-bear, I’ll keep in touch from now on,” he said, squeezing his shoulder, before striding away as quickly as he could.

He’d made it all the way to the top of the stairs that led back to the lower level of the Spire when Steve caught up with him, calling out, “Tony! Wait!”

Tony’s shoulders stiffened, but he tried to school his features into pleasant professionalism when he turned around to face Steve, who looked around at the people surrounding them with a pinched look, before facing Tony. “Can we talk? Uh, privately?”

Tony fought back against the urge to say no, Howard whispering in his ear that this was their chance to make up for their last conversation. But Tony wasn’t about to apologise for Howard’s mistakes, nor for his people’s prior secrecy.

Still, he supposed he at least owed it to Steve to hear him out.

He sighed, “Yeah, of course.” He glanced around, spotting an empty looking space near a window on the highest level. “Come on.”

Steve followed him as they made their way through the crowd. The highest level of the Spire was mostly filled with seating areas that offered more privacy and intimacy than the lower two levels, but they were all packed with Starfleet personnel celebrating. The space by the window he’d observed would have to do, the noise of the crowds would hopefully offer them a little privacy, and the potted plant beside the window might keep them out of prying eyes at least somewhat.

Tony took a deep breath, as they stopped in front of the window, barely even noticing the expansive view of the stars above and the rest of the Triskelion structure below, as he looked at Steve.

The current Starfleet uniform suited him, maybe even as much as the maroons had. His broad shoulders filled out the jacket nicely, and the darker colours made his features even more striking.

“So,” he said, “I guess this means you figured out the whole, enhanced thing, if Fury let you rejoin the fleet.”

Steve looked surprised, yet again. “I didn’t realise you knew about that,” he said, brows pinching together, “But I guess there’s a lot of things I didn’t realise – like that you were responsible for locating the temporal rift that my ship emerged from.”

Oh. Is that what this was about?

Tony sighed, turning away so that he could make a quick exit once this was over and done with. “Look. Why don’t I just save you the trouble, alright? You don’t need to thank me or anything like that. I would have done it for anyone, if they’d been left behind in the same circumstances. So you don’t … owe me, or whatever it is you’re thinking now that Rhodey’s spilled the beans.”

“What? No, I wasn’t – I mean, I _am_ grateful, and I did want to thank you. But that wasn’t why I wanted to talk to you, Stark.”

Tony frowned, turning back to Steve. “Then I’m at a loss.”

Steve huffed out a breath, folding his arms across his chest in what Stark recognised as a _nervous_ gesture, “I would have thought it was obvious – especially to someone who knows me as well as you do.” Tony actually startled, slightly, at that, but Steve didn’t notice the motion. “I wanted to _apologise_ to you. I was … geez, I was completely out of line. I was in an awful place, mentally, at the time, still suspicious of everything and afraid of – _but_ that’s no excuse. I was rude to you, and,” he winced, “terribly xenophobic, and I’m really, _really_ sorry. To _both_ of you. Uh, I mean, I _know_ you’re one person, honest, I’ve been doing a lot of reading about your people, and honestly, your species is really fascinating, actually, and … and I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?” he finally said, scrubbing a hand over his face and laughing.

Tony had been too busy feeling stunned to even notice, but he laughed back, a proper laugh for a change. “You always did try to oversell it, Steve,” he pointed out.

And Steve dropped his hand from his face, his expression suddenly, painfully serious, his piercing blue eyes looking into Tony’s. “You really are him, aren’t you?” he asked, voice pitched low with wonder, before his mouth scrunched up in amusement, “Or, I’m sorry, part of you is. I don’t know how I couldn’t tell straight away. It really is incredibly obvious. I’m blaming it on the temporal rift.”

Tony’s face relaxed into a smile, the knot that had been lodged in his throat for months finally unfurling. “Considering the other side effects it caused, I think it’s a pretty good excuse,” he agreed.

Steve chuckled, then his face grew serious once more. “It might be, but nothing can excuse the way I behaved to you. I hope you’ll give me the opportunity to make it up to you,” he said, holding out a hand to shake. Tony grasped it firmly, watching the corner of Steve’s lips twitch up. “It’s nice to meet you, Tony Stark. I hope I can get to know you as well as I knew Howard.”

“I hope so too,” Tony replied, earnestly. He felt Howard’s smile, as he leaned into Tony’s side, and Tony had to suppress the joy that wanted to bubble up out of him as he finally, _finally_ felt the part of him that was Howard settle, with one final grumble, _Thank the First, you finally got it right_.

Steve pulled back, still smiling at him. “I hope you’ll come back to join us for another drink? Before you check on your engineers? I’m sure you’d like the opportunity to catch up with Commander Rhodes some more, before you’re too busy with repairs.”

“I’d like that,” Tony said, grinning as Steve’s smile widened and he led them back down the stairs.

~

It didn’t take long for Tony to notice how incredibly surreal he felt, actually talking to Steve again. It was as if no time at all had passed, which for Steve it must feel like it hadn’t, as the part of Stark that was Howard came rushing to the forefront in his presence.

He regaled the Patriot’s crew with a bunch of stories from his days on the America, Stark delighting in the chance to embarrass Steve, Tony shooting him gleeful grins as his face grew redder and redder.

He actually felt kind of bad, as Steve excused himself to get them fresh drinks, cheeks aflame. And that feeling lurched into outright concern when Rhodey turned to him with a frown, leaning closer so the junior officers wouldn’t overhear. “What the hell is going on man?”

Tony cringed, “I guess it’s not a great look embarrassing the Captain in front of his crew, is it?”

But Rhodey shook his head, “That’s not what I’m talking about. Who the hell am I sitting next to?”

Tony’s brow creased, “What? It’s me, obviously.”

“That’s funny, cause you were doing a pretty good impression of someone else – Howard, I assume?”

Tony’s eyes widened as he reflected on his behaviour over the past hour – all charming smirks and booming, obnoxious laughter, none of which were his usual mannerisms. “Oh fuck.”

Rhodey leaned even closer and put a hand on his shoulder, “I guess this is why your people have all those rules against reassociating with people your past hosts had relationships with, huh?”

“We were _not_ in a relationship,” Tony hissed, leaning in so that Rhodey could feel the full force of his glare. “Howard wasn’t even interested in Steve that way.”

“So what’s this about then? I’ve seen you meet people Maria knew before – seems like she knew half the damn galaxy actually – but you never acted like her,” Rhodey said, pointedly.

Tony grimaced, leaning back slightly, not wanting to get into the issues he and Stark had been having maintaining equilibrium. “I, uh … it’s just different, with Steve, because of the whole temporal rift thing. I mean, all those other people had kept living their lives, you know? But Steve … he’s the exact same person he was when I – when Howard knew him.”

“So this isn’t about whatever you two went off to talk about?” Rhodey queried, giving him a knowing look, “Because you seemed pretty unhappy to see him earlier.”

Tony’s face was going to be stuck in a permanent cringe, at this rate. “We had a bit of a … misunderstanding, when we first met. He’d only just woken up in the future, and the Joined Trill thing was a bit of a bombshell – _I_ just thought he didn’t like me, but he pulled me aside earlier to apologise. Said he’d like to get to know me,” he explained, unable to hide the way the memory of Steve saying as much made the corners of his lips pull upwards.

Rhodey’s eyebrows went up and his knowing look grew sly. Tony immediately scowled at him and Rhodey squeezed his shoulder, hard, “Well then you’d better start acting like yourself again.”

He pulled away from Tony and looked over at Steve, who was just returning, a tray of drinks to distribute in his hand. “Hey Tony, have you told Steve about that time you lost the Resilient to a Ferengi DaiMon in a game of tongo?” he asked, loudly, knowing full well that Tony had not and that Rhodey had sworn he’d never speak of the incident again. But he supposed his friend was just trying to even the playing field, on the embarrassment front.

“Ughh,” he groaned aloud, rolling his eyes, “You’re never going to let that go, are you? I won it back!”

Steve handed him his drink, biting back a grin, “Now this I have to hear,” he said, sitting back down beside him.

Even with Rhodey by his side – nudging him and sending him warning looks every time he started to slip back into Howard’s mannerisms – Tony felt like he was on a knife’s edge, the balance and tug between Tony and Howard leaning first one way then the other for the next couple of hours, as the three of them were chatting away with the Patriot’s crew, discussing Operation Return, and the war, and sharing more misadventures from Tony and Rhodey’s youth.

It was so exhausting that Tony was starting to think that going and checking on his engineers for real this time, rather than as an excuse, might be a good idea.

Unfortunately, before he had the chance to excuse himself, the lingering crowds on the middle level of the Spire parted around an approaching figure.

“Admiral Fury,” Steve said, surprised, rising from his seat before the others had even realised who was standing in front of them. The rest of them made to stand up when Fury gestured for them to stay put.

“At ease. I’m not here to interrupt your celebration – from all the reports I’ve received, it was well earned. But I do have some news to deliver to Captain Rogers and Commander Rhodes,” Fury said, his gaze stopping on Tony for a second, with a barely perceptible eyebrow raise, as he looked around at the rest of the crew.

“Sir?” Steve asked, tilting his head.

Fury placed his hands behind his back, standing straight and tall, as he looked between Rhodey and Steve with his good eye. “Usually I would give this news to the Captain to deliver, but you’ve only been serving together a short time, so if you’ll forgive the indulgence, I wanted to do the honours myself,” he said.

Tony felt a frisson of excitement, having a bit of an idea what might happen next, and was delighted when he was proved right – when Fury pulled a tiny box from seemingly nowhere and offered it to Rhodey, who stood up to accept it. Rhodey popped the lip open and his eyes grew wide, then he gently picked up the single, gold pip. “Admiral?”

Fury smiled – by which Tony meant, the corners of his mouth rose a few millimetres and his eyes looked particularly satisfied. “By the authority of Starfleet Command, I hereby promote you, James Rhodes, to the rank of Captain.”

Tony cheered, raising his half-filled glass in triumph, “About damn time!”

The crewmembers around them laughed, and even Steve chuckled, though he did roll his eyes at Tony. Fury’s eyebrow rose, “It is indeed, Commander.”

Rhodey still looked slightly shocked, though Tony knew he’d be thrilled once the reality sunk in. “Sir, if you don’t mind my asking, does this mean that I have a new assignment?”

Fury’s shoulders went back once again. “It does. As of today, you will serve as the captain of the Patriot.”

Now Rhodey looked twice as shocked, and his eyes darted over to Steve and back. “But sir-“

Fury held up a hand to stop him, “Please, Captain. Don’t steal my thunder.” Rhodey blinked in surprise. Steve, for his part, just looked confused as Fury turned to him. “Captain Rogers, your assignment on the Patriot was only ever meant to be temporary, to ascertain whether or not you would still be able to handle the duties and responsibilities of being a Starfleet Captain in the twenty-fourth century, during a war. As you have demonstrated that you are more than capable of serving in that capacity, Starfleet Command has decided to assign you to command the newly commissioned USS America, a Defiant-class vessel, registration NCC-1999-A.”

Steve gaped at him for a good thirty seconds before he seemed to remember himself. “Sir, I would – that would be an honour.”

Fury just gave him a nod, still looking satisfied. “The America will be arriving later in the week, so I suggest you start thinking about your crew assignments. But we can discuss that in detail tomorrow. For now, I do believe I have given you all another two reasons to celebrate,” he said, before turning on his heel and striding away.

Silence filled his wake, as Steve remained standing in place, and Rhodey stared down at the fourth pip in his hand. Tony took it upon himself to fill the silence, rising up and plucking the pip out of Rhodey’s hand. “If you’ll allow me to do the honours, _Captain_ ,” he said, grin teasing, as he leaned over to affix the pip in its place on Rhodey’s collar.

That seemed to be all the prompting the Patriot crew needed, because they were suddenly surrounded, the crewmembers cheering and offering their congratulations to their new Captain, and their old one. After a few minutes of this, Steve started to look a bit shell-shocked, so Tony gently tugged him away by the sleeve. “Come on, let’s go and grab one last drink. Give them a few minutes, just the crew and their new captain.”

“Right,” Steve agreed, leading the way down the stairs to the bar.

“So, a Defiant-class huh?” Tony said, “That’s going to be a hell of a change from the old Constitution-class refit, though I guess the Patriot has already given you a taste of what a twenty-fourth century starship can do.”

Steve looked over at him, halfway down the stairs, eyes wide. “That’s the same class of vessel Captain Sisko commands, isn’t it? I haven’t even studied the specs in any detail,” he confessed, “There’s been so much to catch up on.”

Tony grinned, “Lucky you’re friends with an engineer then, isn’t it? And, even luckier for you, I consulted with the SCE in 2371 when they were bringing the design out of storage. The tough little ships were tearing themselves apart, before we made some modifications.”

Steve grinned back, then gave him a considering look, “I don’t suppose Captain Danvers would be willing to part with you? I could use an engineer who already knows the ship back to front.”

Tony’s hearts lurched. Howard was already jumping at the chance – but that was exactly why he couldn’t. As much as wanted to be friends with Steve, and planned to stay in touch, he clearly wasn’t able to handle reassociation in his current state. Putting himself in the engine room of another USS America, under Steve’s command, didn’t sound like a sensible option right now. “You know I’d love to,” he said, tone appropriately apologetic, even if he was feeling relief at having the (not untrue) excuse, “but I don’t think Captain Danvers will let me go anywhere until this war’s won. But I tell you what, I know the perfect person for the job. Used to be a first rate pilot before he switched to engineering, and now he’s a first rate engineer.”

“And he’d be willing to transfer?” Steve asked, as they finally made it to the bar and waited for Luis to finish serving drinks before placing their orders – though Tony was already thinking of making his excuses after all.

“Absolutely, he’s been wanting to get his hands on a Defiant’s engines. I’ll send him a subspace message tonight, make the introduction – his name’s Sam Wilson, you’ll get along like a house on fire. Best engineer in the fleet, other than me, of course.”

“Of course,” Steve agreed, laughing and leaning back against the bar.

Tony smirked back at him, “Funny how quickly things can change, isn’t it? Operation Return has brought Deep Space Nine back under our control – and now you’re in command of a new America. I’m sure this is all a sign that this war is finally turning in our favour.”

Steve smiled at him, “I’ll drink to that.”

“Actually,” Tony said, noticing Luis handing over his final drink before it was their turn. “I think I’d better call it a night. I never did get around to checking up on my engineers, so I’ll need to get some sleep if I’m going to wrangle them into shape in the morning.”

It must have been his imagination that Steve’s face fell, very slightly. “Oh, of course. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble with that – you always ran a tight ship.”

Tony shook his head, “ _Howard_ ran a tight ship. _I_ prefer to keep things a bit more relaxed, leave more room for creative solutions,” he explained, needing to remind Steve that he wasn’t just Howard in a new body.

Steve blinked at him, looking surprised, “Right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to assume you’d be the same.”

Tony sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “No, I’m sorry Steve. It’s, uh, it’s actually been tougher than I expected, spending time with you.”

He definitely didn’t imagine the way Steve’s face fell this time, his mouth drooping and eyes going wide and sad. “Oh. I didn’t realise.”

“No, fuck,” Tony swore, scrunching his face up, “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He pushed his hand through his hair. “It’s just … I feel like I’ve been struggling all night, to remember that I’m not Howard. I’m not usually … I don’t usually act that much like him. And I didn’t want you thinking that … that I was the same as … you said you wanted to get to know _me_ ,” he tried to explain.

Steve’s face had lifted out of its wounded look, thank the First. “I do. And I, uh, I noticed, that you were almost exactly like Howard, at first. But then you started acting more like, uh, what I assume is your normal Tony Stark behaviour – and, uh, I like what I’ve seen of that part, so far,” he reassured Tony, an inexplicable hint of a blush spreading across his cheeks, “But I’m sorry if it’s been confusing for you.”

Tony felt a rush of surprise go through him. Steve had noticed when he’d stopped acting like Howard? He had to bite his inside of his lip to stop himself gaping in shock, had to drawn on all the Stark charm he could to maintain his cool. He waved off Steve’s concern, “Don’t be. I’d rather go through a little confusion than avoid you altogether and miss out on your friendship.”

He couldn’t quite decipher the look Steve gave him, at that, though the smile that followed was easy enough to understand. “I’m glad. I’d hate to miss out on your friendship too.”

Tony smiled back, then covered his mouth as he yawned. “Well, I’d better call it a night,” he said, even more exhausted from the confusing rush of emotions he was feeling at this conversation.

He turned to leave, but Steve made an abortive step towards him, “I hope I’ll see you around?”

Tony bit his lip, not sure if he could handle any more rollercoaster emotions after tonight – but he _had_ enjoyed spending time with Steve. “I’ve got a lot of repair work – and you’ll be getting ready for your new command, so I’m not sure we’ll have the time,” he said, reluctantly.

“We need to eat sometime,” Steve pointed out, oddly insistent, “How about tomorrow? 2000 hours?”

Tony blinked at him, but shrugged, “Yeah, okay, why not? I’ll meet you here?”

Steve’s shoulders relaxed, his face hopeful, “Great. I’ll see you then. Goodnight Tony.”

“Night Steve,” Tony replied, ignoring the odd squirming in his stomach as he made his way back to the Marvel and his bed.

~

“Tony!”

He slowed down in the corridor, on his way to the mess hall for lunch, as Jan rushed past the people behind him in the corridor to catch up with him. When she reached him she looped her arm through his and nudged him with her hip. “Hey Jan, how was Aspida?” he asked, remembering that she’d been excited to visit the moon again, not having been able to see very much on their first visit.

“It was beautiful,” she swooned, staring off dreamily into the distance. “And I found some _amazing_ fabric that’s going to make the cutest jacket!” she added, grinning. Then poked him in the side, “I still don’t know why you haven’t been.”

“Someone’s gotta keep this ship in one piece,” he snarked back at her. He’d started actually putting in the effort to get to know people, after the Marvel crew helped him save Steve, and he was so glad that he had as he and Jan had become fast friends.

“How are the repairs going anyway?” she asked, as they entered the mess hall, arms still looped together, and made their way over to the replicators.

“We’ll be done in a couple of days, at the rate we’re getting through them,” he replied, proudly. “We’ll be back on the front in no time.”

Jan sighed at that, “Ugh, don’t talk about the war. It’s so depressing, I don’t want to think about it on my day off.” She unhooked her arm from his as she placed her order at the replicator and retrieved her plate and drink. Tony grabbed his own food from the replicator beside hers, and then had to keep from spilling it on himself as Jan nudged him with her hip again, “Tell me about how _Steve_ is. A little birdy told me the two of you were talking all night, looking _very_ cosy.”

Tony’s brow crinkled, then one of his eyebrows rose, as they found an empty table to sit at. “Well I don’t know whether your bird is blind or what, because we spent most of the night talking with Captain Rhodes and some of the crew of the Patriot,” he clarified.

Jan shook her head at him, “That’s not what I heard,” she sing-songed.

Tony flushed, scowling down at his meal and stabbing a forkful with more force than intended. “I’m telling you, you’re wrong. Steve and I are _maybe_ on our way to being friends, and that’s all.”

“You’re awfully defensive for someone who only has platonic feelings for him,” Jan pointed out, tone only half-teasing.

A retort was on the tip of his tongue, when Tony actually stopped and thought about it. _Was_ he being defensive? Howard had only ever considered Steve a friend! But what did _Tony_ feel for him? He’d barely gotten used to the idea that Steve didn’t hate him, let alone them being friends – so there was no way he was going to add any more complicated feelings into the mix. Things were already confusing enough.

But then his perfect Trill memory provided an unhelpful series of mental snapshots, of the amused look Steve gave him as he was telling a story, Steve’s earnest desire to get to know him as Tony, his handsome features (and they were extremely handsome, he didn’t know how Howard _hadn’t_ felt anything beyond friendship for him) thrown into relief by the relaxed lighting in the Spire.

Tony actually felt a rush of panic swirl through him, at the realisation, and involuntarily lifted his eyes to meet Jan’s, watching as her eyebrows rose at whatever she saw on his face. He quickly looked back down at his plate. “I swear Jan, there’s nothing going on – and even if there were, now is hardly the time for … for …”

“Romance?” Jan asked, leaning forward and down a little so that she could meet Tony’s reluctant gaze as he looked back up at her.

“Exactly.”

“ _Some_ people might argue that the middle of war, when any of us could die at any moment, is the perfect time for a little romance,” she pointed out, gesturing at him with her chopsticks.

Tony cringed. “Things are already complicated enough between us, without me adding … anything else, to the situation.”

Jan studied his face as she chewed, then shrugged, “Fair enough. Goodness knows your former lover emerging from a temporal rift almost a century later, to find out you’re a Joined Trill, already sounds like a holonovel plot, without you rekindling the flame.”

Tony gaped, “What? _No_ , you’ve got the wrong idea entirely! Steve and I – Howard, I mean, were only ever friends.” Why did all of his friends think they’d been in a relationship?!

“Huh, really?” Jan replied, tilting her head to the side as if she needed a minute to consider whether he was telling the truth or not. Then her eyes widened, “Ohhh, so this is one of those, old friend emerges from a temporal rift after a century to find out you’re a Joined Trill – but then your new host develops sudden and unexpected feelings for them, situations! Wow, no wonder you’re confused.”

Tony dropped his fork with a clatter and pressed his hands into his face, groaning aloud. Maybe it wasn’t too late to reconsider the whole, having friends in the crew thing.

The worst thing was, he knew with a sickening lurch in his gut that she was right on the mark. “He only thinks of me as a friend,” he insisted, dropping his hands to stare at her.

She gave him a sympathetic look and patted his hand gently, with her free hand, “I’m not sure that’s true, if what my friend told me they saw yesterday is accurate, but even if it is, what’s wrong with having a few harmless feelings? You don’t have to do anything about it, if you don’t want to.”

He opened his mouth to tell her exactly what was wrong with having feelings, but then frowned when he couldn’t actually come up with anything beyond, I’m too much of a fucking mess to deal with anymore feelings about anything. “I’d rather just focus on being friends, right now,” he finally said, shrugging, knowing that was the best thing for both of them.

“I get that,” Jan said, nodding, then she smirked at him, “Still, it doesn’t hurt to look, right?”

Tony rolled his eyes, his lips curling up involuntarily. But it was about time he got her off the topic, “So, what do I have to see when I finally get around to visiting Aspida?” he asked.

She gave him a knowing look, at the obvious tangent, but let it go in favour of telling him all of the sights he needed to see.

~

He’d tried to ignore everything Jan had said, as he’d busied himself with the repair work that afternoon, but now that he was making his way to the Triskelion it was bouncing around his head, damn her. It _would_ hurt to look, if looking came attached to feelings that he couldn’t handle right now. She read too many holonovels, that was all – and she did have a reputation as something of a matchmaker on the ship. That was all it was, Jan’s overactive imagination when it came to romantic relationships. And a friend of hers who saw something that wasn’t there.

He had to remind himself of that more than once, as the turbolift made its ascent to the top of the tower. He considered turning back around, sending Steve a message with his excuses, claiming the repair work was more involved than anticipated.

But then he found himself stepping out of the turbolift into the Spire, dread and anxiety swooping in his gut in equal measure, but apparently not strong enough to stop him from making his way to the bar to wait for Steve.

The recreation hall was still busy, with the dinnertime rush, but much less packed than it had been yesterday. Which was the only reason he noticed Steve stepping out of the turbolift, a few minutes later (and not because he was staring at the turbolift doors looking for him, definitely not).

“Tony! Hi,” Steve said, as he made his way over to him. The top section of his uniform jacket was undone, ever so slightly, revealing a section of the crimson shirt underneath. Tony glanced down at it and swallowed, then immediately caught himself and had to fight down the swoop of panic.

“Steve,” Tony replied, probably too loudly, already backing away from the other man – but turning it into a smooth turn to face the other way, “Let’s go and find the replicators, I’m starving.” He was not, in fact, sure that he could stomach anything at all, right now.

“Sure,” Steve agreed, following close behind Tony, who led them over to the bank of replicators on the opposite side of the room from the bar. “How was your day?” Steve asked, and Tony latched onto the topic with relief.

He probably bored Steve to tears, explaining the repair work he was doing in far too much detail, as they replicated their meals and then made their way up to the highest level to find a seat. He didn’t realise, until they were seated, how cosy and intimate a spot he’d chosen – the booth could probably fit four people easily, two on each side, and the plush seats were very tall, giving them privacy. They had their own private window, looking out on Aspida, above them.

Tony immediately tucked into his food like he was starving, asking Steve about his own day, to distract himself from the complicated mess of emotions he was feeling.

But somewhere along the way, he became caught up in the conversation – discussing Steve’s crew, then the America-A, before Steve started asking questions about _Tony_ (not Stark), his family, his time at the Academy with Rhodey, everything he could think of.

Before he knew it, Tony found himself stifling a yawn in his hand, their plates long since empty as they nursed empty glasses.

Steve caught the yawn, covering his mouth and then leaning back against the tall-backed seat. His hair was slightly ruffled, from absent-mindedly running his fingers through it all evening, a few strands hanging over his forehead. And his eyes caught the reflected lights of the hall as he looked down at Tony fondly.

Tony’s throat caught, at the sight. _Oh no_ , he thought, trying desperately to shove the feelings down as far as they’d go. Jan was right, damn her.

He wasn’t sure how long he stared at Steve, neither of them saying anything, Tony’s skin crackling with a tension he could no longer deny. But when Steve absently ran the tip of his tongue across his lips, moistening them, Tony covered his panicked spike of arousal with a cough, then smirked back up at Steve, trying to summon some of the old Stark charm (and channel more of the platonic Howard feelings he knew were in there). “Well, I’d better call it a night. Lots more to do in the morning.”

Steve nodded, “Yeah, me too.” Then he tilted his head slightly, “Shall we do this again? Tomorrow?”

Tony’s heart began to thump wildly. “Damn, sorry, I’ve already got plans,” he lied through his teeth – immediately feeling terrible (and a terrible burst of hope) when Steve’s eyebrows drooped. “Dinner with Pepper – uh, Commander Potts. We’re old friends.” (He made a mental note to call her and make dinner plans as soon as he left).

“Right,” Steve said, his lips not quite managing a smile.

“And then I think we’re scheduled to leave the next morning, assuming the repair work is on schedule, and if it’s not I’ll be working double shifts until it is,” he went on, watching Steve’s face sink even further. “But, uh, I’ll message you? Whenever we’re in range? I’d like to stay in touch?” he offered. It wasn’t even a lie, though it still felt like a spectacularly bad idea.

“I’d like that,” Steve agreed. And now there was a proper smile on his face.

“Great,” Tony replied, unable to keep the smile off his own face as he stood, giving Steve a stupid half wave as he left. He already knew, from the swooping butterflies in his stomach, that he was completely, totally, and utterly fucked.

 


	5. IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Star Trek Context Notes:
> 
> Betazed is a planet in the Federation, home to the telepathic Betazoid people (including half-Betazoid Deanna Troi from The Next Generation and her mother Lwaxana Troi, who's also in DS9).
> 
> The Romulans are a vulcanoid race (they share ancestry with Vulcans and have a similar appearance) known for their isolationism, their complex politics and their cloaking stealth technology. There have been numerous minor skirmishes between them and the Federation over the centuries.

Maria raced down the corridor, her footsteps staccato bursts against the harsh metal grating of the deck plates. Her pulse was thundering in her ears, its dual beat out of sync as adrenaline flooded her system. She ran as fast as she could, arms and legs pumping, but still the metallic fingers reached for her.

It didn’t matter how long, or how fast, she ran – eventually they caught her. Her breath caught in her throat as hands locked around her limbs, pulling her back against the slab of metal, freezing cold against her back. Lifeless faces stared down at her, the colour drained away, red laser light making her squint as their ocular implants focused on her.

She tried to squirm away, but their grip was like duranium, holding her limbs down with such immense pressure that all her wriggling and moving made no difference. The assimilation tubules darted from the nearest drone’s wrist like the fangs of a snake, puncturing her neck. Heat and electricity zapped along her nerves, the nanoprobes flooding through her, and in their wake, the icy chill that washed over her from her core to her extremities.

“Maria!” the familiar voice echoed in her mind. She knew that she knew it, but still couldn’t connect it to a proper memory.

It didn’t help that as soon as it spoke the voices of the Collective followed, buzzing around her in a swarm that drowned out everything else. They reached for her, pulling her down in their attempt to pull themselves out, to use her as a life raft to escape. Her body dissolved, becoming one with the Borg, until all that was left was her mind, tossed about in great churning swirls and sweeps.

Even as she felt herself slipping away, yanked by her ankles into the depths, the familiar voice called to her, accompanied by a momentary glimpse of its owners’ face, thrown into stark relief by the shadows, “Maria! Help me! Stark, _please_!”

~

Tony was subdued as he stepped out of the turbolift into the Lounge. He couldn’t help but contrast their return to the Triskelion against their last visit. Everything had seemed so hopeful, then, when they’d retaken Deep Space Nine from the Dominion. But the months since had taken their toll, and the latest news had plunged the war into its darkest hour yet.

The Lounge was half empty, most people drinking alone, chairs turned to face the windows and staring out into the darkness with haunted gazes. He was planning on doing the same. Was almost grateful when Luis, normally so cheerful, seemed to be sharing in the sombre mood as he took Tony’s order and silently made his drink.

He hesitated, when his feet carried him on auto-pilot around the room to the emptiest section and he found Steve sitting there, staring out at the stars. He was about to turn away, find somewhere else, when Steve turned and noticed him. He felt a frisson of joy, that sat wrong in his stomach under these circumstances, when Steve’s face lightened up a fraction at the sight of him and he gestured with his almost empty glass for Tony to sit.

“Steve,” Tony greeted, as he sat, taking a sip of his drink and enjoying the burn.

“Tony,” Steve returned, finishing off his drink in one long swallow that made Tony’s attention catch on his adam’s apple before his eyes darted away.

He sighed. He should be thrilled, getting to see Steve in person again.

He’d thought he’d only message him a couple of times, out of courtesy – the complicated feelings being in Steve’s presence had evoked were too much for him to deal with, with everything else going on in his life. But – to his relief – those strong emotions Steve elicited in him in person seemed to disappear, when they were communicating through the barrier of subspace messages.

Even then, he’d thought that – as with Rhodey – Steve would be too busy to do more than send the occasional letter, or have the briefest chat over subspace, when they were far enough away from the front that they could afford to send personal messages without fear of them being intercepted.

But, instead, they’d started writing to each other almost every day. When they were out of comm range, or had to go on blackout, they’d still record messages for each other, so that when they got back in touch they’d have half a dozen messages at least, bundled together to listen to.

At first Tony had tried to keep it to engineering matters, feeling like he at least owed Steve the answers to any questions he had until Sam arrived. But then Steve had started asking Tony questions about the twenty-fourth century – commenting on things that hadn’t changed in almost a century, complaining about new things that had changed that he didn’t see the reason for. Then he’d started sending excited messages about some new wonderous bit of tech he’d only just learned about, or news that he’d just caught up on. It made Tony feel like he was reliving the past ninety years with fresh eyes.

And it helped reassure Tony that Steve definitely saw him as more than just Howard, when he asked Tony to fill in the gaps in the history books and news reports with details that only a person who’d lived through the events would know.

It had become the highlight of his day, receiving a message from Steve. Being able to talk about anything, and everything, with him.

So he should have been delighted to see him – to be able to talk in real time, without the ticking clock of their duties hanging over their heads. But instead the state of the war hung over them like a pall.

“I still can’t quite believe it,” Steve murmured, staring down into his empty glass before looking over at Tony. “That probably sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? I mean, I’ve fought enough battles over the past six months that you think it’d have sunk in, but-“ he shook his head, “I guess it all felt … distant, until now. We hadn’t even made first contact with the Cardassians, back in 2280, let alone fought a war against them or set up a de-militarized zone across the border. So it just felt like, like we were far enough away, I guess. Fighting on a distant border. Like it wasn’t really going to effect the rest of the Federation. But now …” he put his glass down, with a sigh, “I was there, when Betazed joined the Federation. I even visited the Opal Sea, once, on a day trip. To know that it’s fallen into Dominion hands is just …”

“Unbelievable, I know,” Tony agreed. Sipping his drink again. They’d been a day out from the Triskelion, stopping over for another brief shore leave, when they’d heard the news. The Dominion had invaded Betazed, while the Tenth Fleet had been in the middle of a training exercise. It would have been embarrassing, if it wasn’t such a goddamn tragedy.

“Yeah,” Steve murmured, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms in front of him. The silence between them dragged out. Tony was usually good at filling them, but today, right now, he didn’t have a clue what to say. He just stared out at the stars and drank until his glass was empty.

“Can I get you a refill?” he offered, standing and holding out a hand for Steve’s empty glass.

Steve startled, blinking rapidly as he turned to look up at Tony, then back down at his glass. “Yeah, thanks. Aldebaran whiskey,” he said, handing the glass over to Tony, who nodded and made a trip back to the bar.

He slid back into his seat a few minutes later, passing over Steve’s drink with its bright green contents, and taking a sip of his fresh supernova, then placed it on the table in front of him with a sigh.

Steve looked over at him, the corner of his mouth twisted, “You know, when I first woke up here, in this time, I thought … I thought maybe it was for a reason. When Admiral Fury told me we were in the middle of a war, that the Federation needed the best officers it could get if we were going to have any hope of winning, I thought maybe I’d come out of that temporal rift in this time period because I was meant to a make a difference here.” He took a sip of his whiskey and let out a bitter laugh. “How arrogant is that?”

Tony shook his head, “Not at all. I probably would have thought the same thing, if it had happened to me. Anyone would. We humanoids … tend to look for patterns, for reasons, to explain our lives.”

Steve let out a huff of breath, “That’s exactly it though – it’s just wishful thinking. An attempt to give my life meaning and more importance than it deserves. I thought I turned up here, at this time in history, because the Federation needed me to help win this war. But that’s a load of bullshit.” He sighed, loudly, and took another swig of his drink. “The truth is, I survived Schmidt and his crazy time machine to wind up here, entirely at random, and now I’m stuck watching the Federation suffer through its darkest days.”

Tony felt his lips purse, brow furrowing, and reached forward to grab his drink again and take a large gulp. He didn’t think he could have his conversation sober. “I know things look pretty bleak, right now,” he said, slowly, trying to consider his words, “But that’s exactly why I _do_ think you’re here in this time period for a reason. You are here to make a difference – you’re here to give us hope. I don’t think you realise how inspiring you are, not just because you’re one of Starfleet’s finest captains, though that’s a hell of a morale boost on its own, but because you turned up after being missing for _ninety-three years_. You’re a living reminder Cap that, even when things seem hopeless, we should never give up hope.”

Steve was looking at him with a look Stark had never seen on his face before. His eyes looked startlingly blue, in the dim light, as he looked down at Tony, who swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. He took a hasty sip of his drink, tilting his head away so that intense gaze would stop burning into him. Steve cleared his throat, and Tony could actually feel when his eyes moved off him and returned to staring out the window beside them. “I’m not sure I can live up to a legend like that,” he said, softly. “I still … I feel so lost, here. I know being in the middle of a war hasn’t exactly given me the proper environment to adjust, but – honestly? I was a total mess before you started messaging me. Everything was so familiar, but different enough that I felt like I might as well be in a parallel universe. If it wasn’t for your friendship, I don’t know how I would have coped … and _you’re_ the one who held onto hope that I was still somewhere out there, for all those decades, even when no one else believed you. So, really, of the two of us, I think you’re the bigger inspiration.”

Tony blinked at him, startled, and felt his cheeks flush. He tried to hide it behind the rim of his glass as he took another sip, then shook his head, “I wasn’t the only one who believed you were still out there,” he corrected, voice raspy and low.

Now it was Steve’s turn to look startled, then sceptical, “That’s not what the rumours I’ve heard say.”

Tony brushed him off, trying to hide his now flaming cheeks, ignoring the way his stomach swooped at the knowledge that Steve had actually heard about some of his embarrassing behaviour over the past few years and was still here talking to him. “Nowadays sure, but back then it wasn’t just me, the entire crew of the America thought you were lost out here somewhere. We spent weeks trying to figure out what had happened, months looking in between missions.”

Steve had gone still beside him, the hand not holding his glass clutching onto the cushion beneath him. Tony mentally cursed, he’d been avoiding this topic in all the months they’d been talking, knew it was likely still too fresh a reminder for Steve of everything he’d lost. He was about to change the subject to something (anything) else, when Steve looked over at him, hope and fear and longing warring with a dozen other emotions across his face. “What happened to them all? I’ve wanted to … I was hoping to send messages to whoever is still alive, but I didn’t- I couldn’t bring myself to read their biographies … to see when they …”

Tony placed his hand carefully over Steve’s, on the cushion beside him, and squeezed. He took a deep breath, decided to start with the good news. “Well, you should definitely read Peggy’s biography because it’s a hell of a thing – there are books about her and everything. She was promoted, after the incident with Schmidt, and given command of the America. One of Starfleet’s finest Captains, right up there with Pike, and Kirk – and you, of course. But her career didn’t end there. She kept the America as her flagship when she was made Admiral, was Starfleet Commander in Chief for a decade, oh, and then she served as the Federation President.”

“President?!” Steve exclaimed, shocked, before a delighted grin spread across his features.

“Yep,” Tony replied, grinning back at him, “She was so popular she was elected for three terms – those were a dozen extremely productive and peaceful years.”

“Of course they were,” Steve said, still grinning, some of the tension flooding out of his body.

“She officially retired after that, but unofficially was on about two dozen councils and committees. I think all of us thought she was going to keep going forever, but in the end she went in her sleep,” he said, voice going soft and fond. “It was only about a decade ago. I’m just sorry she never got to see you again.”

Steve’s hand tightened up beneath Tony’s, who went to move his hand away – and was shocked when Steve turned his hand around so that he could grasp Tony’s in his. “So am I,” Steve murmured, “But I’m glad she lived such an amazing life.”

Tony exhaled, squeezing Steve’s hand. “I was privileged to know her,” he said, then his mouth twisted slightly, “We stayed in touch, both Maria and I. After you disappeared, and then Bucky … well, it seemed stupid to keep Stark a secret. Not if it meant losing more friends unnecessarily.”

“Wait. What happened to Bucky?!” Steve asked, sounding stricken.

Tony took a deep breath, wanted to rip this bandage off sooner rather than later. “He stayed on the America for a few years, as her XO, then went back to Starfleet Intelligence. He was on some top secret, highly classified mission, investigating something extremely dangerous on the edge of Federation space and … there was an explosion. He was killed.”

Steve’s breath rushed out of him in a huge whoosh. “When?” he choked out.

Tony winced, knowing this was going to sting after learning that Peggy had lived more than a century. “2286,” he answered.

“Fuck,” Steve swore, his hand clutching at Tony’s so tightly it was actually painful, before he seemed to remember himself and released it. He took one look at the rest of his drink and downed it. “I need another drink,” he said, standing, looking down at Tony’s half empty glass. Tony nodded – stared out at the starfield through the window while Steve was gone, remembering the day Maria had received the news, the funeral service over an empty coffin.

When Steve returned, a few minutes later, fresh drinks in hand, he placed them on the table in front of them before stepping over to the window, pressing one of his hands against the transparent aluminium.

Tony debated with himself for a moment before he stood, wobbling slightly as the alcohol caught up with him, and went to stand beside Steve.

He was considering what, if anything, he could say to make the situation seem less fucking awful, but hadn’t even managed that when Steve spoke again, tilting his face so that he could look at Tony out of the corner of his eye. “What about Howard?” he asked. Tony sighed. He’d actually hoped Steve would have forgotten to ask, what with him being right here and all. When the silence dragged out too long, Steve turned his face more fully, “Shit, sorry, that’s probably an insensitive thing to ask isn’t it? Since it happened to you – sort of. You don’t have to tell me.”

Tony shook his head, “No, it’s not a taboo or anything, it’s just …” He sighed, feeling the strangest combination of embarrassment and old, old anger. “He died searching for you,” Tony blurted out, then closed his eyes, his nose scrunching up, as Steve choked on a breath beside him. “I – he built a lot of experimental technology, trying to get the rift to reappear, to pull you out of it somehow. It was unstable. I’m just lucky I was the only one hurt.” When he opened his eyes again, Steve was staring at him with such awful guilt on his face that Tony immediately scowled. “Fuck, no, don’t you dare go blaming yourself for his bad decisions. The blame begins and ends with him, he was an idiot and he couldn’t let it go and everything that happened because of that is on him.”

Steve looked like he was going to protest, but then he sighed. “I guess it won’t exactly help anything if I go carrying around that guilt, will it?”

“Absolutely not. Believe me,” Tony said, weariness entering his voice. “When Maria was joined we made the decision to move on. It was only … luck, or fate maybe, that lead us back to you.” He didn’t exactly want to get into the whole, obsessively searching for six months, thing right now. Luckily Steve either hadn’t heard about that, or didn’t want to push if he had.

He looked worriedly over at Tony, “I probably don’t want to know when Howard died and you were joined to Maria, do I?”

Tony’s nose scrunched up again. “Definitely not. But best to get it over and done with, I suppose. It was 2284.”

“Fucking hell,” Steve sighed out, leaning forward to rest his forehead against the window for a minute. Then he straightened up and went back over to their seat to retrieve his drink.

Tony joined him, gulping down a huge mouthful to push down the emotions roiling through him. “Don’t worry, the rest of the crew doesn’t have anything close to the tragic fates that Barnes and I did,” he reassured, launching into his recollections of what happened to the rest of the America’s crew.

He wasn’t even sure how much time had passed – though he and Steve had both staggered off to the fresher and obtained more drinks a couple of times – when he finally ran out of stories to tell and the pair of them lapsed into silence.

“How do you do it?” Steve finally asked, pulling Tony up out of the haze of his own thoughts and drawing his gaze away from the inky blackness out the window. At Tony’s uncomprehending frown he clarified, “Get used to your friends, your family, everyone you know, dying. While you live on.”

“Oh, that,” Tony exhaled, “It’s not easy. In fact, it’s probably the hardest thing about being Joined. Adjusting to the future, that’s easy enough, it just takes time. But having to keep going, when all the people you care about have died … I’m not going to lie, it’s hard sometimes.” He sighed, took another sip from his drink, knowing it should probably be the last one, considering the way everything had become increasingly wobbly and fuzzy as the night had wore on. “But the brilliant thing about living, whether you’re a symbiont that will hopefully live centuries, or a humanoid that will only live one, is that no matter how many people you lose, there are always new people for you to meet. People just as unique and wonderful and important to you as the people you’ve lost.”

“Oh,” Steve breathed, staring at Tony as if he’d just provided some sort of amazing revelation.

Tony flushed, his gaze darting away under Steve’s scrutiny. But he kept speaking, not wanting Steve’s focus to leave him, now that he had it. “I know it’s hard. But I also know that, if anyone can do it, it’s you, Steve.” He let the corners of his mouth lift, his eyes crinkling at he took in Steve’s face, cheeks just as flushed from the alcohol as Tony’s. He exhaled, eyes skittering back to the window, before adding, “I know you’ve lost everyone else you know … but you still have me – you have Stark. Being a Joined Trill … it comes with so much tragedy, but also so much joy. And let me tell you, finding a friend you’d thought was lost is one of the biggest joys I’ve ever experienced in all my lifetimes.” He huffed out a laugh, not daring to look at Steve, sure his whole face was bright red at this point. “What I’m trying to say is, that you shouldn’t be afraid to hold onto all of the things you still have – to help ground you as you find where you fit, in the twenty fourth century.”

He startled as Steve’s hand grasped his shoulder, turning him gently so that he was finally looking at him. Then his eyes widened as he finally took in the expression on Steve’s face – the amazement that lit up his features, blue eyes bright and cheeks rounded around a smile. They stared at each other for a good thirty seconds, Tony waiting for Steve to say something, when the other man suddenly leaned in and pressed his lips to Tony’s.

Tony actually jumped, at the unexpected contact, and Steve immediately pulled back, that wonderous expression from a moment ago replaced by distress. “Shit, Tony, I’m sorry, I should never have-“

But Tony shook his head, not wanting to hear whatever it was Steve thought he was apologising for. This was exactly what he needed, after a night of baring his soul and digging up old, old wounds, on the eve of an invasion that, Mak’ala forbid, might be the tipping point for this war in the Dominion’s favour.

He stood up, stomach churning as he watched the panic flash in Steve’s eyes before he held out his hand to him. “Come on,” he said.

Steve paused, brow furrowing, before looking up from Tony’s hand to his face. “I don’t understand.”

Tony leaned forward, pressing the backs of his knuckles gently to Steve’s cheek. “Come back to my quarters with me.”

Steve gaped, his eyes widening for a second, and now Tony was the one who was going to start panicking and apologising.

But then Steve reached up, grasping Tony’s hand and moving it over to his lips so that he could press a kiss against the pads of his fingers. “Let’s go.”

Tony’s hearts began to race, and didn’t stop, as they made their way across the lounge and to the turbolift in record time, only stumbling once in their haste from all the alcohol they’d consumed. Once they were inside, and he’d set the lift’s destination, he couldn’t resist pressing Steve up against the turbolift wall for a proper kiss.

They both groaned, as Tony’s tongue delved into Steve’s mouth, seeking out the spaces that made him gasp or twitch as he traced his lips and gums and then tangled their tongues together. Steve’s hands came down Tony’s sides and he tensed for a second before they settled on his waist and he relaxed.

It seemed like no time at all had passed when the turbolift door was whooshing open on a – thankfully empty – corridor. Tony tugged him through the airlock and along the, equally empty, corridors of the Marvel.

Tony only narrowly resisted jumping him in the corridors, knowing that anyone who saw them would be under no illusions as to where exactly they were rushing to and what they were doing when they got there. But they could at least maintain the illusion, stave off any rumours that inevitably would travel around a ship like this at warp.

As soon as the doors to his quarters opened for them, Tony’s restraint melted away. He slammed Steve up against the wall and practically attacked his mouth with his own. Steve groaned under the onslaught, gripping Tony’s hips with firm hands as Tony’s tongue plunged into his mouth, tasting every inch of him. Tony’s hands slid up from Steve’s shoulders to the sides of his face which made him pull back slightly, hissing between his teeth. “Why are your hands still so cold?”

Tony huffed out a laugh. “Sorry. It’s a Trill thing.” He couldn’t resist turning his hands around to run the backs of his knuckles across Steve’s sharp cheekbones and down his jaw. “By the First you’re gorgeous,” he whispered.

Steve stared back at him with those blue, blue eyes and it was too much for Tony, who pressed back in to taste his lips again. He shifted his weight so that he could press his thigh between Steve’s legs and rub, delighting in the way Steve’s breath hitched against his mouth. Tony kept up the onslaught, he couldn’t stand any more vulnerability tonight. Didn’t want Steve looking at him. He just wanted – needed – to _feel_ Steve. To taste him, and touch him, and have him. Just for tonight.

He mouthed along Steve’s jaw, nipping at the bone and then sucking on it, making Steve moan and his hands tighten on his hips. Tony let his hands trail down the planes of Steve’s broad chest, tugging his uniform jacket up and reaching for the fastener on his pants. “Tony,” Steve gasped out, as Tony tugged it down and then reached in to press one of his cold hands against Steve’s cock through his underwear.

Tony lowered his head to suck wet kisses down Steve’s neck, massaging Steve’s cock in time with the motions until he shuddered against him, panting out harsh breaths, his fingers tightening and loosening their grip against Tony’s hips.

“Unngh,” Steve groaned, “Let’s … bed?”

Tony shook his head, and leaned up to breathe hotly in Steve’s ear. “I want you to take me right here, against the wall.”

Steve let out an incoherent noise, “Nnngh, fuck, what, I’ve never-“

“You didn’t have enhanced strength, before,” Tony pointed out, running his hand along the firm muscles of Steve’s abdomen – the other was still in his pants, pressing and squeezing. “I bet you could hold me up and not even break a sweat.”

“Fuck,” Steve bit out, his fingers gripping so tightly it hurt for a split second, before Tony felt himself being swung around. All the breath was knocked out of him as Steve pressed him into the wall, but he managed a groan even as he wheezed, and wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist. Steve moaned, then looped one arm underneath both of Tony’s thighs to hold him up more securely. His other hand reached down and undid the fastener of Tony’s uniform pants.

Tony didn’t even let him finish getting it all the way down before he started to squirm and shimmy his pants and underwear down. Steve groaned, shifting his grip so that Tony didn’t fall and helping him tug his boots and then the garments off. Then he reached for his own pants. Tony interrupted him before he could get them off all the way, leaning in once his cock was free and sliding his own against Steve’s in a delicious motion that had Tony grabbing onto Steve’s hips and squeezing.

“Nnngh,” Steve gasped out again, “I’ve never, been, with a Trill before.”

“We’re not that different from Humans,” Tony reassured him, rubbing his cock against Steve’s again as evidence.

Steve made another groan of pleasure, but his brow creased, “Do you have lubricant?”

“Okay, slightly different from Humans,” Tony amended, then reached for the hand not holding him up and guided it around to his hole, which was already swollen and wet. One of Steve’s fingers pressed against it, and he swore, his arm tightening its grip around Tony’s thighs.

“Fuck, Tony,” he ground out again, and Tony couldn’t believe he was getting to hear him – and see him – like this. Thought he’d be the vocal one, of the two, but then he hadn’t done this since- no, he wasn’t thinking about that now.

“Come on,” Tony gasped out. Needed to chase everything out of his head except Steve, and his body’s sensations.

Steve pressed one of his long, long fingers into Tony in a seamless motion that had him gasping out. His muscles squeezed around him, needing more, and Tony panted out, “No, you don’t need to prep me, I’m ready.”

Steve groaned against his neck, “But-“

“Not Human,” he reminded him, even if they weren’t actually that different, in this regard. But he didn’t want to wait, and it wouldn’t cause damage, like it could with a Human, would just feel tight and overwhelming and too much. Which was exactly what Tony needed right now.

“Alright, if you’re sure,” Steve murmured, before he shifted Tony slightly, needing to adjust the angle before he could press his cock against Tony’s entrance.

“Yes, please, Steve,” Tony gasped out, grabbing onto Steve’s shoulders and adjusting the grip of his thighs around him.

“Tony,” Steve gasped in return, as he pushed into him, inch by delicious inch, both of them panting raggedly at the vice-like grip.

Tony squeezed his thighs around Steve’s waist, the tips of his fingers digging into the meat of his shoulders, as Steve bottomed out with a groan so loud the neighbours probably heard it through the soundproofing.

They stayed like that for a long moment, revelling in the sensation. Tony felt like all of his nerve endings were on fire, in the best way. His thoughts and memories and even Stark were blissfully, miraculously, silent. Every single molecule was grounded in the here and now, with Steve inside him, and around him, and pressing him into the wall.

Then Steve began to move, and even his conscious thoughts finally went silent. Everything was just sensation – the drag of Steve pulling out of him, the rush of Steve pushing in, the firm press of his arm underneath him, as solid as duranium as it held him up effortlessly.

Noises finally began to leave Tony, gasps and moans and hitches in his breath that flowed without awareness or control. He used his grip on Steve to rock his hips against Steve’s, both of them effortlessly entering a rhythm that felt as natural as if this was the hundredth time they’d done this, not the first.

Steve’s noises grew more erratic as his hips began to speed up, and he began to lose control over his own strength. Not in a way that hurt Tony, but enough that his brief grip of Tony’s shoulder and waist and hip would leave faint bruises, as he sought the best leverage to hold Tony.

“Fuck, Steve, more, please,” Tony pleaded, chasing even more sensation.

Steve growled and actually let go of Tony for a moment, moving both hands to grasp at the back of his thighs and shoving him against the wall so that Tony couldn’t even move with him anymore. Had to just hold on and take it as Steve pounded into him, each thrust firm and deep and faster and faster and faster.

Tony threw his head back against the wall and wailed, the dull smack of duranium against his skull a grounding counterpoint.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, Tony,” Steve gasped out, high pitched and desperate as he drove into Tony impossibly faster and harder, the wet smack of their skin adding to the symphony of their motions.

“Steve, oh, fuck, Steve, I-“ Tony’s orgasm caught him by surprise, between one gasp and the next, his whole body straining against Steve’s grip as his back arched and his head pressed further back into the wall, mouth open in a silent gasp as his cock spurted come in thick, shiny ribbons across Steve’s uniform jacket.

Steve cried out in ecstasy as Tony’s body clamped around his cock, internal muscles rippling and pulsing, just as surprised as Tony when his orgasm suddenly crashed upon him. Tony groaned as his body milked Steve’s cock, greedily squeezing it in rhythmic pulses until every last drop of come had been wrung out of him.

His own cock rewarded Steve by squirting him with a second pulse of come, and the two of them groaned in unison at the sight, the silvery streaks shocking against the black fabric of Steve’s uniform.

They panted together, sucking in great heaving gasps of oxygen as they tried to catch their breath. Steve had pressed his face into the front of Tony’s shoulder, tilted away from him to leave room to breathe, his arms still solid beneath Tony’s thighs.

With a groan of effort, he carefully pulled back, his now limp cock sliding free, and Tony whimpered at the loss. The gentleness with which Steve placed Tony back on the floor, hands steadying his hips to make sure he could support his own weight, was a sharp contrast from the wild strength he’d displayed moments ago, and Tony found his heart squeezing painfully at the thought.

“Here,” Steve breathed, voice ragged and a few octaves lower than usual, “Let me help you get out of this.”

Then he reached for Tony’s uniform jacket, and everything seemed to slow down as Steve’s hand grasped the fastener, pressing close in order to reach it properly, and brushed against Tony’s sternum before dragging down, over his chest – and freezing when he felt the hardness hidden by the uniform layers.

Tony froze, suddenly choking on his breath, and pushed Steve away with one hard, sharp shove. Steve was so startled that he actually stepped back, his hands darting away as if they’d been burned.

Tony’s body went into autopilot, reaching down for his uniform pants and tugging them back on frantically.

“Woah,” Steve exclaimed, clearly confused, “What’s going on? Tony? Have I done something wrong?”

It took a few goes to get his feet properly back into his boots, but he finally managed it. “Nope, you’re fine, just remembered I had something to do,” Tony replied, voice sounding strange in his ears as he rushed out the words, not even noticing what he was saying. He slapped the panel to open the door, and was already out into the corridor before Steve called after him.

“Wait! Tony! These are your quarters!”

But Tony was already halfway down the corridor by then, hands shaking and legs moving as if he was being chased by a hundred Borg drones, as he ran to hide in his lab.

~

The next day, all of the ships docked at the Triskelion received word that the Romulan Empire had joined the war.

Captain Danvers made the announcement over the shipwide comm and Tony was woken from an uneasy sleep slumped over his workbench. He was confused for a minute, about why the Bridge was filled with cheering, until he played back her announcement in his head. The Romulans had formally declared war on the Dominion, and entered the fray by attacking fifteen bases along the Cardassian border, apparently.

In light of this new, amazing development, they were being ordered back to the front early, to take advantage of the chaos caused by their unexpected new ally.

He used the fresher in his lab, to clean himself and his uniform enough to be presentable and then rushed to main engineering to get the ship ready (it’s not like his engineers weren’t used to him turning up looking like shit, as far as they were concerned it was his default state, but they’d gotten over any reservations they might’ve had when he had the engines purring like a kitten within a day of his arrival).

It must have been only half an hour later, as they were making their way out of the system at impulse, that Talos’ voice came over the comm, informing him that he had a personal transmission incoming from the America.

Tony swallowed, but knew that if this was the last time he ever saw Steve, because they died in some upcoming battle, he’d never forgive himself for leaving things as they were.

“I’ll take it in my office,” he said, making a beeline for the tiny space he rarely used.

As expected, Steve’s face appeared on the desk monitor a moment later, what must have been the wall of his ready room behind him. He looked incredibly worried and Tony felt a lurch of guilt.

“Tony,” Steve began, tone already apologetic even just saying his name, and Tony immediately shook his head.

“No, stop, don’t you dare apologise,” he replied. “You have nothing to apologise for.”

“I made the first move,” Steve insisted, his brow pinched.

“And I invited you back to my quarters,” Tony countered, “It was entirely consensual and don’t you dare think otherwise.”

“Well, excuse me for being concerned,” Steve replied, his entire face going pinched now, “But people who consented to sex don’t usually go running off afterwards.”

Tony shook his head, “I told you, I just remembered something I had running in the lab, time sensitive, I needed to take care of it.” Steve just stared at him through the monitor, clearly not buying it for a second, but Tony wasn’t having this conversation – not now, and hopefully not ever. He sighed, “Seriously Steve, you didn’t do anything wrong. And I don’t want you going back to the front thinking you have.”

Steve continued to stare at him, eyes narrowed, probably trying to decide whether to call Tony out on his bullshit or not, before resignation settled over his face. “Right. That’s very … considerate of you. Thanks for clarifying things for me.”

Tony didn’t know what kind of fucked up thing it said about him, that the familiar sarcasm in Steve’s tone made his lips twitch into an aborted smile, despite what a fucking mess he’d made of this whole situation (again). “Take care of yourself out there,” he said, knowing that if Steve went and fucking died on him he’d probably regret not telling him the truth – but that was a whole pandora’s box that he wouldn’t, couldn’t, open right now.

“You too,” Steve replied, still studying Tony’s face through the screen. “I guess I’ll see you around Stark,” he added, only waiting for Tony to nod before he ended the transmission.

“Fuck,” Tony hissed out, leaning down to press his forehead against the desktop, ignoring the silent presence of Maria, suddenly standing behind him, her gaze on him a heavy weight.


	6. V

The next couple of months passed slowly, for Tony.

Although the Romulans joining the fight had evened the odds, the war was still being fought on a defensive front, with the Federation focusing on protecting all the systems now vulnerable to invasion since the Dominion occupied Betazed.

He was sure he would have been much more optimistic about the state of things … if he and Steve were still speaking. But he hadn’t dared send any subspaces messages, after the mess he’d made of things, and Steve hadn’t sent any either. How the hell he’d gotten so attached to Steve in only a few short months he had no idea, but he had, and coming back to his quarters of an evening or waking up in the morning to no new messages from him had become a physical ache, not helped by the fact that it was his own damn fault.

Maria hounded him wherever he went, a silent presence that nevertheless served as a constant reminder of his own failures and mistakes.

Pepper noticed him isolating himself, once again – he could tell by the looks she gave him when they were in briefings or ran into each other in the mess hall. And even some of the other members of the crew seemed aware that something had changed in him.

But none of them said anything, and he couldn’t blame them. There was a war going on. They didn’t have time to check in with each other, like they might have if they were at peace. Everyone was looking out for themselves, trying to keep their own spirits up as they approached the end of the first year of the war with no end to the conflict in sight.

At least, that’s what he was telling himself.

Pepper set him straight, in her typical no-nonsense way, when they stumbled across each other in the otherwise empty mess hall in the middle of the night. Tony had forgotten to eat and was currently halfway through a huge bowl of Terran tortellini stuffed with Bajoran shrimp smothered in a spicy sauce. He had one second to contemplate leaving his food and making a break for it, before Pepper sat down across from him, looking determined.

“What’s going on with you Tony?” she asked, cutting to the chase.

Tony deliberately speared another piece of pasta and ate it, buying himself a few seconds. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally went with, licking sauce off his bottom lip absentmindedly and enjoying the way his mouth tingled from the chili.

Pepper let out a sigh, leaning forward to gently rub her temple. She looked so exhausted that Tony felt a stab of guilt slice through him. “We thought you were doing better, since you and Steve started talking. At least, that’s how it seemed.”

“We?” Tony asked, surprised.

Pepper just looked at him for a moment, wearily, “You honestly don’t think I’m the only people on this ship who gives a shit about you, do you?”

Tony opened his mouth, then closed it. Then opened it again to say, “Uhh, yes?”

Pepper sighed, again. “God, I don’t know how someone who’s over two hundred years old can be so oblivious,” she said, pinching the bridge of her nose. “How can you not have noticed Jan cornering you at every meal in the mess hall trying to get you to talk to her?”

“I just thought she wanted to hear the latest gossip,” Tony replied, blinking.

“And the Captain pulling you aside after every briefing to remind you that if you ever need to talk, her door is open?”

“I thought she was worried about the state of engineering.”

Pepper threw her hands up in exasperation, “I had to stop the two of them from breaking into your quarters yesterday and forcing you to talk to them!” Tony gaped at her. Pepper shook her head, “And they’re not the only ones concerned. Talos was the one who noticed you haven’t been receiving any messages from the America for weeks. And Stephen suggested contacting Steve directly to find out whether we needed to defend your honour.” Tony jumped at that, eyes going even wider, but Pepper just looked at him, amused, “Don’t worry, I put a stop to that too. But they’re hardly the only ones – I think your entire engineering staff has come to see me this week. They’re worried about you Tony. We all are.”

“Oh.” Tony blinked at her, stunned, and had to stop his eyes darting across to Maria, who was suddenly standing behind Pepper’s shoulder, looking incredibly smug. _I told you people cared_ , she said.

Pepper shook her head at him, “What happened between you and Steve, Tony?”

Tony swallowed, turning his face away from her as he tried to ignore the sudden racing of his hearts. It was so stupid. But telling Pepper was preferable to having to try to explain things to Jan, or Mak’ala forbid, the Captain. At least she had a chance of understanding. “Steve and I … had sex,” he finally said, voice soft but still sounding so loud in the empty room.

“I see,” Pepper said, “And what, he was no good?”

Tony turned back to face her in order to give her an unimpressed look. She returned it with one of her own. So he rolled his eyes, “If you must know, it was incredible.”

“Well what’s the problem then?” Pepper asked, eyebrow raising. Then her nose scrunched up, “Unless this one of those Trill taboos or something – but you’ve never exactly been the kind of person who puts much stock in rules.”

Tony groaned, “Why does everyone seem to think Howard and Steve were involved like that? They weren’t! Howard was mostly interested in women!”

“Alright, alright,” Pepper said, holding up a hand and scrunching up her nose, “I didn’t realise it was a sore spot. But if it’s not that the sex was terrible, and it’s not some Trill thing stopping you … what is it?

Tony looked away from her again, jaw clenching.

“Oh,” Pepper said, and he looked back over at her sharply. She was avoiding his gaze. “You haven’t told him, have you?”

His jaw clenched so tightly he could feel all of his teeth, before he purposefully released the tension in one loud exhale. He leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest in an unconsciously protective gesture. The pose made him uncomfortably aware of the hardness of his chest and anger rose up before he could stop it. “No. And I’m not going to.”

He’d expected an argument, like all of the others he and Pepper had had in the year after he left the Resilient. But she just sighed and lifted her eyes tentatively to meet his. “And you shouldn’t – not until you’re actually ready to.” He blinked, taken aback, and she went on, “But Tony, you don’t have to let this destroy your friendship with him. I know how much he means to you – to the Stark part of you _and_ the Tony part, if all of the messages you were sending to each other were any indication. I don’t know whether you realise this or not, but it was good for you. The whole crew noticed you opening up more. I was really happy for you.”

Tony swallowed heavily, staring down at the wide bowl, still half full of pasta. “I was happy too,” he murmured. Then he picked up his fork and speared another tortellini. “But I’m not sure this is something I can fix,” he admitted.

She reached across the table and grasped his other hand, gently. “You can’t know unless you try. But whether you can, or you can’t, at least try to remember that _we’re_ here for you too. Okay?”

He looked up at her, a crooked smile twisting his lips. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks Pep. I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“Always,” she replied, smiling.

“Now,” he said, trying to lift the mood so they could stop talking about him and his issues. “Do you want some pasta?” he asked, lifting up the fork and offering it to her. She rolled her eyes at him, and leaned forward to take a bite.

~

Things were a little bit better, after that. His engineers still gave him worried looks when he was still in main engineering at the start of the day after tinkering with the plasma manifolds all night, but he stopped avoiding everyone in the mess hall, started accepting offers to join games of gin rummy and fizzbin, even helped Pepper plan a party to celebrate the Romulans liberating Benzar from Dominion control.

But he had to admit to feeling an unhealthy amount of joy, when Captain Danvers announced that they were going to participate in the Federation’s first offensive attack on Dominion-held territory. Trying to hold himself together and open himself up to his crew, without falling apart again, was exhausting. Being able to focus on something external to himself – like keeping his ship in one piece in the coming battle – was a relief.

He still felt that elation as they returned to the Triskelion for repairs, after the battle had been won – so much so that he agreed to join his engineers in the Spire for another celebration. Every twist and turn in the fortunes of this war were celebrated or mourned accordingly, and although at times it felt like an endless Coney Island rollercoaster ride, at least it felt as if they were all in it together.

An hour in, when the crew from the America spilled out of the turbolift into the Spire, Tony wished they were all a little bit less together.

Swallowing the last of his drink, he rose from his seat. “Time to call it a night,” he announced, ignoring the groans and cajoling of his crew as he stepped away. Hopefully, with a little luck, he’d sneak out before Steve even caught a glimpse of him.

Of course, luck might have other ideas, Tony thought as he stepped up to the turbolift – only to have the lift doors open and reveal none other than Steve Rogers.

“Tony,” Steve said, eyes widening in surprise.

“I was just leaving,” Tony reassured him, giving him a tight smile.

Steve’s face fell, and he opened his mouth to speak – before thinking better of it and closing it again, looking resigned. He stepped off the lift, both of them ignoring the curious looks of his crew as they went around him as they exited the lift. Steve gestured to the now empty lift, “Have a good night,” he said, quietly.

But before Tony could make his escape, a voice called out to them. “Ah! There you both are!”

He winced, but plastered a smile on his face as he turned to face Captain Danvers. “Captain.”

She looked between them, her gaze assessing, then offered a smile. “Come and have a drink with me, Captain, Stark.”

“The Commander was just leaving,” Steve said, looking away from Tony with his jaw clenched.

Danvers’ eyes met his. “It’ll look good for the crew, to see us all celebrating,” she said. Tony could tell from her voice that it was an order, and tried not let his annoyance show on his face.

“Of course, Captain,” he replied, striding away from the turbolift and back to the bar.

The three of them made their way to a small seating area on the middle level, near the interior railing, where they’d be visible to crew on all three levels. Pepper was saving the seats for them. _I see what’s going on here_ , Tony thought to himself, fighting to keep the scowl off his face.

“Commander Potts,” Steve greeted politely, as they approached. He sat down next to her, on the edge of the seat, so that Danvers and Tony would be forced to sit on the other side. Tony knew he should appreciate it, since he’d been the one trying to get away, but it still stung.

“Captain Rogers,” Pepper replied, and then the two of them starting making polite small talk, discussing the battle. Danvers joined in, while Tony sipped his drink in silence, wondering when it would be polite enough to attempt another escape.

“What do you think Commander?” the Captain asked, turning to him, and Tony blinked, caught off guard.

He was thankful for Stark, improving his memory enough that even when he wasn’t consciously paying attention he could quickly recall things that had been said in his presence. “I think we’ll be hard pressed to keep Chin’toka, not unless we use it as a beachhead to launch more attacks and claim more territory.”

“But if we stretch our forces too thin, we might lose all the systems we claim, including Chin’toka,” Steve said, seemingly not noticing that he was talking to Tony normally.

“That’s true,” Tony said, before launching into an explanation of his opinion on the next strategic steps to take. He didn’t notice the two of them had been having a proper discussion until he ran out of points to make, twenty minutes later, and blinked in startled surprise when he realised they were sitting here alone. “Wait, where did Pepper and the Captain go?”

The corner of Steve’s mouth quirked up, “They went to get more drinks … about ten minutes ago.” Then his brow pinched and his mouth fell back into a concerned droop. “I guess they wanted us to talk to each other, but I understand that you don’t want to.”

Tony sucked in a startled breath. “Wait, I thought _you_ didn’t want to talk to _me_.”

Steve blinked at him, “Of course I want to talk to you Tony. I’ve been _miserable_ without-“ he cut himself off, his cheeks flushing, “Uh, I mean.”

Tony stared at Steve, feeling his own cheeks heating up. Then he glanced away, “I’ve missed talking to you,” he confessed.

“I’ve missed talking to you too,” Steve said, shifting so that he was sitting sideways on the seat and facing Tony completely. “I know you don’t want to talk to me about … whatever it is I did wrong,” he went on.

Tony cringed, “I told you-“ he tried to argue.

But Steve just spoke over him, lifting his hand up, “And that’s okay! I understand. Well, I might not understand completely, but I don’t want to push you. The last thing I wanted to do – then or now – was make you uncomfortable. And-“ he rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, “I don’t want a … decision we made at a time when we were both … vulnerable to ruin our friendship.”

“Oh,” Tony said, relief uncurling in his gut, “I don’t want it to either,” he assured him.

Steve actually sighed in relief, and Tony watched the tension bleed out of his shoulders. “Good. Because I have so many questions about holonovels and Sam just laughs at me whenever I try to ask him some of them.”

Tony felt his mouth curl up into a smile, involuntarily. “I can’t promise I won’t laugh, but I’m happy to answer them for you.”

He ignored the way his stomach swooped when Steve’s whole face blossomed into a smile.

~

“Sooo, a little birdy tells me that you and Steve spent all night talking in the Spire,” Jan said as she sidled up to him on his way back to his quarters after dinner the next day.

He hadn’t been able to think about anything else the entire day – and had spent hours tossing and turning in bed after they’d said their goodbyes last night. So the last thing he needed was yet another reminder that, despite all of the perfectly sensible reasons why he shouldn’t be, he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve in a way that was way more than strictly platonic.

His brow crinkled, his anger at himself and his damn feelings finding an outlet as he pulled away from her hand as she reached out to loop their arms together like usual. “Jan,” he replied, tone warning, his jaw tight.

She blinked at him, pulling her hand back immediately. “Woah, sorry. Did you _not_ work things out?” she asked, her own brow furrowed with concern.

“We did. Everything’s fine now.” He looked away from her, now even more annoyed with himself – there was no reason to take it out on her, just because _he_ couldn’t control his damn emotions (and libido).

“Oh,” Jan replied, walking silently beside him for a beat, “Then I’m confused. I came to say I was happy for you. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Tony sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “It is. And I am happy. But … look Jan, I get that you’re just trying to be a friend and I appreciate that, but I don’t need anyone playing matchmaker right now, okay? Steve and I are just friends – and that’s all we’re going to be. He said as much last night.” Multiple times, in fact, each time a fresh stab in Tony’s heart (despite the fact that he knew perfectly well it was for the best!).

She blinked at him, her brow creasing before her face fell. “I’m sorry,” she said, voice small, “I didn’t mean to upset you Tony, or imply anything. If you and Steve are just friends, then I’m happy for you – whatever makes you happy.”

He sighed again. Fuck, now he felt angry _and_ guilty – though the anger was already fading in the face of the guilt. “No, _I’m_ sorry, it’s not you I’m mad at, it’s myself,” he admitted.

Her mouth opened in an ‘o’, her eyes widening, then her face fell into a sympathetic look, “Oh Tony, I’m sorry. It sucks, having feelings for someone who doesn’t return them.”

He winced. He wished that was all that was going on here, _that_ he could handle, _this_ was far more complicated. “It’s my own fault. There could have been something more, but I made a mistake – and now I have to live with the consequences of that,” he said. Then he sighed, “At least we’re back to being friends. That’s better than not having him in my life at all.”

She leaned closer to him, “Yeah, it is, but it still hurts when you were hoping for something more. I know what that’s like, and it totally sucks.” She offered him a sympathetic smile, but then a brighter one curved across her face, “But luckily for you, I know a tried and true Terran method of dealing with this exact sort of situation.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded, “Yup. Come on, back to my quarters, I’ve got everything we’ll need.”

He hesitated, “What about Hank?” He might have gotten along better with the rest of the crew, but he and their chief science officer still butted heads whenever they were forced to be in the same space as each other.

Jan brushed off his concern, “He’s in the lab. I probably won’t even see him tonight.”

“In that case,” Tony said, offering his elbow for her to loop her arm through, “Lead the way.”

Jan grinned, nudging him with her hip as she squeezed his forearm. “Great! Now, you’re like two hundred years old, so you must have heard of the Terran rom-com, right? Oh! And what’s your favourite flavour of ice cream?”

 

 

2375

It had been a month since both the Marvel and America had been docked at the Triskelion and Tony was enjoying finally being able to talk to Steve face to face, after weeks of subspace conversations.

The sting of knowing he only wanted to be friends, and nothing more, had faded in the wake of the relief he felt at having Steve back as a friend. Receiving his messages had once again become the highlight of Tony’s days – and he found himself sending even more messages in return. He appreciated, now, the treasure that their friendship was, after having almost lost it, and swore to himself that he wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise it again.

And when that promise started to feel impossible under the weight of the longing Tony continued to feel, despite his best efforts to control his emotions, well, he’d just show up at Jan’s door and she’d take one look at him and drag him in for another night of junk food and questionable Terran entertainment.

“Is it true what they’re saying? That Captain Sisko is on extended leave?” Tony asked, leaning across the table towards Steve.

“It is,” Steve said, his shoulders drooping. They were on the highest level of the Spire again, tucked into one of the cosy booths with its tall-backed chairs and a table for their drinks between them. “Apparently one of his officers – a Joined Trill – died during the Battle of Chin’toka. Between that and the wormhole disappearing, it’s understandable that he’d take it pretty hard.”

Tony let out a ragged breath, “I had heard about that. It was Jadzia Dax, his science officer.”

“Did you know them?” Steve asked, looking over the rim of his glass as he took a sip.

“We corresponded, but never had the chance to meet in person,” Tony said, “But Maria knew her previous host, Curzon Dax. We were both Federation ambassadors.” He grinned over at Steve, “We were pretty much the antithesis of what you think of when you think of a Federation ambassador. But Maria at least _tried_ to maintain the pretence that she was a dignified official, until she’d had an opportunity to size up who she was dealing with. Curzon, on the other hand, delighted in shocking people and defying their expectations.”

Steve grinned back, “Sounds like he was quite a character.”

Tony laughed, “He was.” He took another sip of his drink, “Jadzia wasn’t like that though – at least, that’s not how she came across in our correspondences. I think she and I would have gotten on even better than Curzon and Maria did. It’s a shame we’ll never have the chance to find out.” He looked out at the stars beside them, unable to help a wistful sigh, “Even knowing that your memories will live on in your next host, it’s never easy, dying.”

Steve made a distressed sound in the back of his throat, “I can’t even imagine what it’s like. It must be so difficult for you, fighting in this war and knowing that at any point you might die and have Stark Joined to someone new.”

“Actually, it’s more stressful to know that Stark might die with me, if we’re both killed in battle. It’s a bigger tragedy for my people, when a symbiont dies … Losing all those memories and all that knowledge …” Tony explained, shaking his head sadly. Then his gaze lowered to the table, “But maybe it would be better that way.”

“What?” Steve gasped, and Tony flushed, cursing the alcohol that had loosened his tongue. “I … I’m sorry, correct me if I’m wrong but – I’ve tried to learn what I can about Joined Trill, and I thought the symbiont’s continued life was the most important tenet of your culture.”

“It is!” Tony said, desperately trying to figure out how to cover his slip. “Of course I would want Stark to live, even if I died in battle.” Steve stared at him, eyebrows dropping into a frown and mouth closing as he studied Tony, who glanced away at the scrutiny. “I, uh, I’ve got to go,” Tony said, leaving his drink unfinished and rising from the table. “Early start tomorrow,” he added, but then hesitated, remembering the plans they’d already made, “But I’ll see you for dinner?”

Steve’s head was tilted as he studied him, eyebrows pinched, “Yeah, of course,” he said, slowly, then opened his mouth as if he was going to say more.

“Right, see you then!” Tony blurted out, then turned and walked away as quickly as he could. As soon as he reached the stairs he practically ran down them, in case Steve tried to follow.

Maria was waiting for him, eyebrow raised and arms folded, when the turbolift doors opened. He scowled at her, closing his eyes and stepping straight through her. “Don’t even say it,” he threatened, as the doors whooshed shut.

~

Steve hadn’t acted any differently than normal, at dinner the next day, so Tony thought he’d ignored his lapse, hopefully chalking it up to a slip of the tongue.

But apparently he hadn’t let it go after all.

“What have you been saying to Steve?” Rhodey asked, a week later, during their usual chat over subspace.

Tony felt his eyebrows raise, “About what?” he asked, genuinely having no idea what Rhodey was referring to.

Rhodey’s brow creased, “We had a drink at the Triskelion yesterday and he was … concerned about you. Asked if something had happened to you.”

Tony felt himself freeze, his heart starting to race. “What?” he breathed.

“He seemed to think you had some sort of death wish,” Rhodey said, one of his eyebrows raising.

Tony remembered his lapse from a week ago and cringed, but then opened his eyes again to stare at Rhodey through the monitor, “What did you tell him?”

Rhodey leaned back, giving him an unimpressed look, “What do you think I told him? That he must have misunderstood.”

“And? Did he believe you?” Tony asked.

Rhodey’s lips pursed, “About that? Sure. But he noticed I hadn’t answered his other question.” Tony felt panic clawing up his throat now, was sure Rhodey noticed the way his eyes were getting wild, because he immediately put his hands up, face growing concerned. “Hey, relax Tones. I told him that it wasn’t my place to say and may have implied that if he tried to pry that he’d have to answer to me.”

Tony should have felt relieved, at that – and he _was_ grateful to have Rhodey’s support – but knowing that Steve knew that something was wrong with him made Tony feel sick to his stomach. He grabbed onto the edge of his desk, trying to calm the panic that was spreading through his entire body now.

“Hey, woah, Tones, it’s okay, really, he said he understood,” Rhodey tried to reassure him.

Tony shook his head, embarrassed by the tears that had come out of nowhere, trying to blink them back, “Didn’t want him to know,” he gasped out, then bit his lip to stop saying anything else embarrassing.

“I get that Tones, but it’s not the end of the world if he does. He seemed really concerned about you, so I don’t think he’ll judge you – and if he does, me and Pepper’ll kick his ass,” Rhodey promised, leaning down to try to look Tony in the eyes, despite the physical limitations of the monitors they were speaking through.

Tony tried to let Rhodey’s words sink in, through the panic, lifting his eyes to meet Rhodey’s. “He won’t understand,” he insisted, voice wobbly.

“You don’t know that,” Rhodey gently reminded him, “But again – if he doesn’t, then we’ve got your back, okay?”

Tony took a shaky breath, nodding, “I know.” And he did – if Pepper and Rhodey were still here, even after he’d done his best to push them out of his life for years, then he knew they weren’t going anywhere. He didn’t know what the fuck he’d done to deserve such loyal friends, but he was beyond grateful than he had them.

Unfortunately, the flipside of having wonderful friends who always had your back, was that they weren’t afraid to pry – even when they’d told other people to back off.

“What did you say to him anyway? _Does_ he have a reason to be worried? Do I?” Rhodey asked, his concerned face back.

Tony cringed, “No. It was stupid, I’d had too much to drink,” he explained. Rhodey’s eyebrows rose and he waited expectantly, Tony scrunched up his nose, then blurted out, “I may have said something about it being better if Stark and I both died, rather than the symbiont being placed in a new host.”

“Tony!” Rhodey exclaimed, “What the hell man, no wonder Steve was worried about you!”

Tony tipped his head back, exhaling, “I didn’t mean it!”

“Didn’t you?” Rhodey countered, and Tony tilted his back down but kept his face turned away from the screen.

“Fine, so what if I did? It’s not like I’m going to be able to stop Stark being placed in a new host, if I’m dead,” Tony argued, folding his arms defensively over his chest. “So what does it matter?”

“It matters, because you aren’t supposed to have a damn death wish!”

Tony threw his arms up in exasperation, “It’s not a death wish! I don’t want to die! I just don’t want to consign Stark’s next host to having all this shit in their head!”

He looked at Rhodey then, through the screen, feeling the way his lips and eyebrows were tugged down, his jaw clenched against saying any more.

Rhodey stared back, “Oh Tony,” he finally murmured, looking so damn sad that Tony had to look away, pressing his lips together and willing away the tears that threatened to spill out yet again.

The silence dragged out between them, neither of them knowing what to say.

“Thanks for not telling him,” Tony said, finally, glancing back at Rhodey.

Rhodey exhaled, his face still heavy with sadness, “Of course. Though I wish you would tell him, for your sake, not his,” he added. Then he glanced away, as a chime sounded. “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

Tony shook his head, “All good. Go and be a Captain.”

Rhodey looked at him for a long moment, then pressed his hand to the corner of the monitor, as if he could touch his shoulder through the screen. “Take care of yourself Tony.”

“I will,” Tony said, nodding, “You take care too.”

The corner of Rhodey’s mouth ticked upward and he nodded back before cutting the transmission.

Tony stared at his reflection on the blank screen for long minutes, until Maria materialised, looking at him over his shoulder. He pushed himself away from his desk, then, ignoring her as usual. “Time to get back to work.”


	7. VI

Tony sprinted down the corridor, his footsteps loud and reverberating against the harsh metal grating of the deck plates. His pulse was booming in his ears as he ran, as fast as his legs would take him – but as always the metallic fingers reached for him.

Every single time, no matter how fast he ran, or how long he ran for, they inevitably caught him.

His breath caught in his throat as the cold metal fingers locked around his limbs, holding him down on the metal surface that chilled his back even through his uniform. Empty eyes stared down at him from blank faces, greyscale except for the piercing red light of their ocular implants as they zeroed in on his face.

He tried to resist, to escape, like he always did, but their grip was as strong as duranium, locked around his limbs so tightly that he might as well not be moving at all. The piercing of the assimilation tubules as they entered his neck, sending nanoprobes flooding through his system, was as familiar to him by now as the voice that was about to call out for him. He felt the rush of heat and electricity as his nerves gave out one last signal before the nanoprobes invaded. Ice bloomed from his core all the way to his fingertips and toes.

“Tony!” the familiar voice called, as he knew it would. How many times now, had it called for him? And still, its identity was lost to him – trapped on the tip of his tongue.

The Collective swarmed around him, as usual, in a torrential downpour of yelling and pleading and screaming that became a background noise as he tried to focus in on the familiar voice, waiting for it to speak again, hoping that this time he would remember.

But, yet again, he felt his body dissolving into the cacophony, joining the Hive and leaving his mind to its endless, churning dance.

He tried to reach out for the voice, as he felt himself begin to go under. Desperate to see the face, to _recognise_ who was calling to him. But it was obscured by darkness, distorted now, even as it called out for him again and again. “Stark! Tony! Please, help me, why won’t you _help me_?”

Tony jolted awake.

For once, he didn’t bother leaping out of bed, didn’t run away. He just sat in the darkness, feeling his hearts race and his lungs burn, waiting for everything to settle, for the sweat that drenched him to cool.

“All hands, this is the Captain,” Carol’s voice came over the comm, “We are approaching the Triskelion and will be docked within the next half hour. Please make use of the recreational facilities on board the station, as we do not have time for a proper shore leave. Danvers out.”

Tony groaned and dragged himself out of bed, padding silently to the fresher and not bothering with the lights as he stripped his clothes off and got in the shower. “No point when you have a built in nightlight,” he mumbled to himself, not bothering to close his eyes against the green glow. It was strange, after years of doing everything he could to avoid it. He tried to ignore the smugness of Maria in the back of his mind at his supposed ‘progress’.

He was planning on getting some breakfast at the Spire, hoping he’d run into Doctor Banner or Foster, or maybe even Steve. So it was a pleasant surprise when he arrived there, minutes after they’d docked, to find all three of them congregating on the lower level alongside Thor and a handful of people Tony hadn’t met before.

He was about to ask for an introduction, a smile on his face, when Steve turned and caught sight of him and Tony’s stomach dropped. For a second he thought he’d done something wrong, though their subspace conversations had seemed completely normal, so he couldn’t think what it was he’d done.

But then some of the others turned to see where Steve was looking and he could see from all of their faces that whatever was going on was bigger than him.

“What’s happened?” he asked, dread’s icy fingers crawling up his chest and down into the pit of his stomach.

“We’ve only just received word. I can’t believe it …” Steve said, trailing off, his gaze far away in what Tony recognised as shock.

Tony turned to look at the others, hoping for some answers, and a redhaired woman with Commander’s pips and a red collar met his gaze. “Earth has been attacked by the Breen. They’ve issued a formal declaration of war and joined the Dominion,” she explained, voice calm and devoid of emotion.

“What?” Tony gasped out, eyes immediately snapping back to Steve, who looked back at him, his eyes wide and terrified.

Neither of them had time to say anything before Commander Hill’s voice came over the comm system and everyone fell into an immediate hush. “Would Captain Danvers, Captain Rogers, Captain T’Challa and Commander Romanoff please report to the briefing room?”

All eyes turned to face them, but Steve was still staring at Tony.

“Admiral Fury wants to see us,” the redhaired woman, presumably Commander Romanoff, told Steve, gently touching his upper arm and startling his gaze away from Tony.

“Right, let’s go,” Steve agreed, nodding at her and then following her lead as they strode across the room to the turbolifts. He glanced over his shoulder for one last glimpse of Tony, who couldn’t even muster up a smile.

“I don’t believe this,” Doctor Banner said, drawing Tony’s attention away from Steve’s retreating back. “How could something like this have even happened? I mean _Earth_ – it’s unthinkable!”

“It was a bold, but ultimately foolhardy strategy,” Thor announced, shaking his head and looking grim, “Attacking at the very heart of your Federation will only embolden your forces to strike back quickly and decisively, yes?”

Tony made a noise of uncertainty in the back of his throat. “Maybe that’s what they want us to do though – throw all our forces at them now, without stopping to analyse the situation. There really isn’t a lot we know about the Breen,” he said.

“Ah, I see,” Thor said, stroking his beard thoughtfully, “Then we must discuss potential strategies, to be ready for any eventuality.”

“I think Fury and the rest have got that covered, we’re not exactly tacticians here,” Tony replied, remembering at the last minute that Thor was a foreign diplomat and he probably shouldn’t be sassing him.

But Thor smiled down at him and his eyes lit up, “Ah, of course friend Stark, forgive me, I forgot my company for a moment. Perhaps, instead, we should discuss the contribution you and your fellow scientists and engineers can make to this war?”

Tony actually froze in surprise at that, wondering why he hadn’t thought of it himself. “Actually, there _is_ something I was hoping to get your help with – Sam, Doctor Banner, Doctor Foster – and you too Thor,” he said, starting to feel excitement rush through him. “Hold on, I see the chief engineer of the Wakanda over there, we’re going to need her help as well. Grab us a table.”

~

It was late in the evening, when Tony finally emerged from one of the labs in the Triskelion, groaning as he stretched his arms and neck out. He was contemplating going back to the Spire for another drink, to unwind, or just going straight back to his quarters to crash, when the turbolift door opened when they reached the Tower and revealed an exhausted looking Steve.

“Tony. Where are you headed?” Steve asked, rubbing his face tiredly as he stepped onto the lift and the doors whooshed shut.

“Was just tossing up between going straight to bed, or having a drink to unwind.”

“Hmm,” Steve murmured, voice raspy (presumably from all day strategy meetings), “They both sound like good options to me.”

Tony felt a flash of arousal, at that, which led to him opening his mouth without thinking. “I’ve got a bottle of Romulan Ale in my quarters, if you’re interested?”

Steve dropped his hand from his face and looked at Tony, his expression inscrutable. Then he nodded once, “Sounds good. I think I need it, after the day I’ve had. Though, dare I ask where you got it from? I thought it was illegal in the Federation.”

“Not now that we’re allies it’s not,” Tony explained, “It was going to be a gift for the Captain, but I’m sure I can get her another. Like you said, after the day we’ve had …”

They rode the lift in a comfortable silence, both of them seemingly worn out. Tony tried to ignore the frisson of excitement in his gut, reminding himself that it would be a very bad idea for anything to happen again.

Steve paused in the doorway to Tony’s quarters, glancing at the wall where they’d fucked the last time he was here. But Tony rushed past, grabbing up stray pieces of clothing and engineering tools that had accidentally made their way back into his quarters.

“Please, take a seat,” he offered, gesturing at his low couch and going off to retrieve the bottle from where he’d stashed it (and hide the pile of things he’d picked up).

He came back, a pair of square glasses clutched in one hand, bottle of viciously blue liquid in the other, to find Steve leaning back on his couch, his ankles crossed in front of him, face covered in shadow in the low lighting.

“Here, you look like you need this,” Tony said, handing Steve his glass and putting his own down on the table so that he could twist the top off the bottle and pour a generous measure into Steve’s glass.

He sighed into the drink, as he took a sip, then brushed his hand across his forehead, trying to get his fringe off his face. It was such a familiar gesture, from so many late night conversations in Howard’s quarters (where he kept the still that Steve pretended he didn’t know about, except for when he needed a drink), that he had to lean over the table and pour his own drink, to ignore the pounding of his hearts.

“Fury thinks-“ Steve began, and Tony groaned, cutting him off.

“No,” he said, shaking his head and taking a gulp of the ale, wincing as it burned its way down. “You can tell me all about it tomorrow, but right now I do _not_ want to even _think_ about this war. Let alone the fucking Breen.”

Steve exhaled, “That’s fair,” he said, taking another – bigger – sip, and Tony leaned back so that they were sitting shoulder to shoulder, drinking in silence.

They’d poured their second glasses, the potent stuff going straight to Tony’s head, and were halfway through them when Steve turned to look down at him, his eyes startlingly blue as they caught the low light.

“What do you want to think about?” Steve asked, voice throaty and low from the drink, and Tony swallowed, looking up at him. Studied the way that stubborn section of fringe insisted on falling across Steve’s forehead, shading him so that only his sharp cheekbones and one of his blue, blue eyes caught the light. He looked obtainable, like this. Or maybe that was just the alcohol talking.

He took another sip, for courage, then placed his drink down on the table and his hand on Steve’s knee, and said, “You.”

Steve swallowed the rest of his drink in a few big gulps, throat bobbing with the motion, and he barely even checked to make sure his glass was on the table before he was reaching for Tony, curling his hand around his jaw and leaning in to kiss him. His mouth was burning hot, from the alcohol, and Tony licked the sharp taste off his lips and the roof of his mouth.

Steve groaned, hand tightening its grip before he pushed his own tongue into Tony’s mouth, eagerly exploring every inch of it.

They pulled away to breathe and Tony felt Steve trace his spots from the corner of his jaw down his neck. Steve met Tony’s eyes, his own pupils blown wide (though the light level and drink had to take some of the credit for that) before he leant down to press a wet kiss to the hinge of Tony’s jaw, right over one of his spots.

Tony’s gasp opened into a ragged moan as Steve’s tongue followed the trail of spots down the side of Tony’s neck – though he couldn’t get far before Tony’s uniform collar was in the way.

“I know it’s probably the most cliché thing you can say to a Trill,” Steve murmured into his neck, returning his attention to laving his tongue over the spot on the hinge of his jaw, “But I really do want to see how far these spots go down.”

Instead of smirking and making a quip about how he expected Steve to count every single one with his tongue, like he _wanted_ to do, Tony stiffened up as Steve’s hand brushed his collar.

Steve immediately drew back. “Shit,” he cursed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable again.”

Tony’s throat suddenly felt tight and he shook his head rapidly. “No, no, it’s nothing, I’m fine,” he insisted, trying to lean in and capture Steve’s lips again.

But Steve pulled himself back even further, his brow furrowing, “It’s clearly not nothing,” he argued, “And until you feel comfortable telling me where your boundaries are – so I know which lines not to cross – _I_ don’t feel comfortable doing this with you.”

Tony felt an unexpected and illogical surge of rage rise in him. “You’re hardly in a position to reject the comfort I’m trying to offer here,” he spat.

Steve reared back as if Tony had physically hit him. “Ex _cuse_ me? The _comfort_ you’re trying to offer? Is _that_ what this is to you? A pity fuck because Earth was attacked? And here I was thinking you invited me back to your quarters because you wanted to spend time with me. More fool me.”

“I _do_ want to spend time with you,” Tony argued, leaning into his space, “What do you think I’m trying to do?”

Steve frowned at him. “Honestly? I have no idea Tony. All I know is, until you figure that out, I’m not making the same mistake again.”

And with that he stood up.

“What? You’re _leaving_? You can’t be serious!”

Steve shook his head as he strode across the room, “I told you what it’ll take to get me to stay.”

“So, what, now you’re going to _punish_ me because I won’t open up to you?” Tony snarled, baring his teeth at Steve, who stopped to turn his head back and face him, his expression suddenly filled with so much _pity_ that Tony wanted to pick up his glass and hurl it at his stupid perfect face.

“I’m not trying to punish you Tony. And I don’t think it’s too much to want you to _want_ to open up to me about whatever it is that makes you uncomfortable when we’re being intimate, so that I can avoid doing it,” Steve said, voice so calm it set Tony’s teeth on edge.

He wanted to scream at him to get out, to send the glass and its contents hurtling across the room, but all of the words, all of the actions, were frozen in him.

Steve stared at his blank face for a long moment, clearly hoping that Tony would finally do what he wanted, but when the silence dragged on he simply sighed.

“I’ll see you around Stark.”

And then he was gone.

Tony stared at the space where he’d been standing – and didn’t know how long he was stuck there, only that when he finally came back to himself he reached down, grasped the glass and sent it flying.

It hit the duranium bulkhead and shattered on impact, shards flying everywhere, everything covered in droplets of the violently blue ale.

Tony didn’t remove a single part of his uniform, just crawled into bed, boots and all, and curled up.

Sleep took a long time to come.

~

Tony woke up to the comm buzzing insistently in his ear and groaned, desperately wishing he could just slip back into unconsciousness.

But he was too well trained, after three lifetimes in Starfleet, to ignore it. “Stark here,” he called out, knowing his voice conveyed exactly how shitty he felt.

“Tony, where the hell are you?” Pepper asked, sounding annoyed rather than worried. Which in turn made Tony more worried than if she’d been worried. “Report to the observation lounge immediately.”

“On my way,” Tony replied, staggering out of bed. He knew from her tone that he didn’t have time to change, but he winced at the state of his uniform, knowing this was going to set the rumour mill of the ship on red alert.

He was so busy thinking about that he didn’t even notice the crunching underfoot until he looked down at the stained carpet, still covered in shards of glass. “JARVIS, activate cleaning bots,” he called out, not waiting for a reply as he rushed out the door.

As expected, most of the senior staff did not look particularly impressed by his appearance. He didn’t even want to know what his face looked like right now – he could practically feel the shadows under his eyes.

“Do you require the Doctor’s assistance, Commander?” the Captain asked, eyeing him with her most unimpressed look.

Tony winced, “No, I’m fine. Sorry.”

He could tell that she didn’t buy that for a second, but nevertheless she turned back to face the rest of the officers seated around the table. “As I was saying. The Dominion has retaken the Chin’toka system with the help of the Breen. We are on our way to join a fleet of over three hundred allied ships to launch a counterattack.”

Tony blinked, startled to notice the ship was indeed at warp. Then used all of his mental strength to try to push aside the hangover squeezing his temples to focus on the briefing. This was not the time to half-ass things.

Hearing the details of their battle plan and the forces they were up against was enough to sober him up, by the time the briefing ended, though he _was_ going to have to ask Strange for something for his head, which currently felt like it was being split open.

He was about to approach the other man, to ask to accompany him to sickbay, when the Captain intercepted him. She waited until the rest of the senior staff had left the room before she spoke, staring at him impassively. “Are we going to have a problem in main engineering Commander? Because if we are, I need to know now.”

Tony stiffened up, hearts pounding. “Absolutely not Captain.”

Her lips thinned, then she sighed. “Seriously Tony. If something has happened, I can relieve you from duty, I won’t think any less of you. I know you have a lot of … personal issues going on.”

Tony’s eyes widened, surprised by her unexpected sympathy. “I- uh- you do?” he asked, feeling dread circle in his guts at the thought.

She sighed again, glancing down at his chest, “I have read your file Stark. All of it.”

He swallowed. “Oh. I hadn’t realised.”

Carol looked at him in a way that reminded him of Steve – calculating risks and odds, weighing things up against some measure only they knew. “To be honest? I’m surprised you’ve held yourself together as well as you have,” she said, and he stiffened, jaw clenching. She met his gaze, and he was surprised to see compassion in it, “No one expects you to be perfect Tony. I mean it, if you don’t feel able to complete your duties right now – for whatever reason – I just need to know now, before we’re in the middle of combat.”

He met her gaze, feeling the uncomfortable buzz of anxiety beneath his skin, but also feeling other parts of him softening at her understanding. “I understand. But I’m confident that I can fulfil my duties – just as soon as I get something for my headache from Doctor Strange.” He smiled, or at least tried to.

She returned it, and managed to make it look less grim that he was sure his own did. “In that case, report to main engineering as soon as you’ve made a trip to sickbay.”

“Aye Captain,” he replied, nodding and making his way to do just that.

~

A few hours later, Tony was beginning to regret his decision.

“Primary systems are down!” called out the new kid – Cadet Parker – who’d only been serving on the Marvel for a few weeks.

Tony didn’t need him to tell him what he could see with his own eyes. The Breen had some sort of energy weapon that Stark had never seen before – one that was set to obliterate the fleet, and the Marvel along with them. One hit and their primary systems had been completely disabled: deflector shields, propulsion, computer systems, weapons, _everything_.

Blue arcs of energy had crackled through their systems seconds after the Breen had fired upon them, and everything it touched immediately started losing power.

Tony knew it would only be a matter of minutes before the Breen finished disabling the rest of the fleet and came back to finish them off with conventional weapons. His hearts were racing double time, hands dancing over the consoles, trying desperately to get something – anything – to come back online.

But it was too late. He felt the deck pitch beneath them as the Breen fired upon them again, knew that without shields each volley would cause hull breaches that wouldn’t be sealed with their forcefields offline.

He felt his hearts lurch when, seconds later, the emergency systems activated the klaxon calling for the crew to abandon ship.

Parker turned to him, eyes wide and terrified, and Tony stepped forward to push one of his experienced officers at the cadet. “You heard it everyone – abandon ship! Make sure everyone gets to the escape pods!”

He raced around main engineering, checking for injured crewmembers and waving over the others making their way down from the upper levels to help carry them to the escape pods. When he was certain that everyone was safely out, he followed them, close on their heels as they raced to the escape pods and sealed themselves in.

It was only a matter of seconds before they were being propelled away from the ship – and Tony had one last glimpse of his beautiful vessel, tiny pods streaming away from her and carrying her crew to safety, before the Breen came by on another pass and their torpedoes targeted the warp core.

He swore, as the explosion dazzled him, blinking against the flash of light. Any moment now, he expected the Breen to turn on them – picking off their pods one by one. He waited, breath caught in his throat, knowing that somewhere out there on the battlefield the America was suffering a similar fate. Steve had flown into battle along with the rest of them – and now it seemed that they would both die here.

~

When half an hour had passed, without them or any of the other pods around them being destroyed, Tony realised that the Dominion had decided to be merciful, on this day.

Or, more likely, they wanted them to carry news of their worst defeat yet back to the rest of the allies.

~

Tony arrived on the Triskelion after thirty-two hours of travelling. First by escape pod, then on the USS Wakanda, which had picked up as many survivors from the Second Battle of Chin’toka as they could and ferried them back to Starbase 375 – and then on to the Triskelion, for those personnel who had been assigned to a ship that was part of SHIELD.

Tony didn’t waste any time resting in the cargo bay with the others, but spent the trip in main engineering, continuing his discussions with Lieutenant Shuri from prior to the battle (after forcing her to help him check that Steve had survived the battle). He caught sleep in fits and starts, when she chastised him for falling asleep on her consoles and sent him off to nap on the cot in her office, and only ate when she remembered to replicate them both a meal. The Wakanda hadn’t been involved in the battle, thankfully, but that didn’t make Shuri any less determined to find a solution to the Breen energy weapon.

But she flat out refused to join him in the lab on the Triskelion when they arrived, insisting that he “go and get some proper sleep before you _die_ ” and tapping into the SHIELD systems to force them to physically keep Tony out of anywhere but the residential quarters for the next twenty four hours.

Tony had no choice but to find his new quarters and crash, letting the exhaustion overtake him. But even after a solid sixteen hours of sleep, a long, warm shower, and a meal that he actually took his time to savour, he still had another six hours to go before he could get to work. He managed to work, for another few hours, on a personal PADD that he kept a copy of JARVIS on, to integrate his AI with some of the Triskelion systems – but even JARVIS couldn’t get through Shuri’s blocks.

Sighing, Tony gave up on working and began to pace, feeling the restless, agitated energy still lingering from the battle and the loss of the Marvel.

Before he quite knew what he was doing, he’d gotten JARVIS to infiltrate the system and locate Captain Rogers’ quarters.

He was buzzing with adrenaline and nerves and the feeling that he was probably making a terrible, terrible decision, when he pressed the chime of Steve’s door.

A few seconds later it opened to reveal Steve, looking as restless and anxious and exhausted as he felt, dressed in his red uniform shirt and black uniform pants, barefoot.

“ _Tony_ ,” he said, “Oh thank _god_.”

Tony pushed Steve into his room, his hands clutching desperately at either side of Steve’s face as he stretched up on tiptoe and brought their mouths crashing together. Steve’s hands landed on his hips as he steadied himself. As soon as he’d regained his equilibrium he leaned down and pressed his mouth to Tony’s with equal desperation.

Tony kept walking Steve backwards, towards the bed, their mouths fused together, tongues tangling as they battled each other for the right to plunge deep into the other’s mouth and press and taste. His hands were a cold, iron grip on Steve’s jaw, and Steve’s were clutching his hips in the same way, as if they never wanted to let the other go.

But when the back of Steve’s knees hit the bed he paused, breaking away to suck in desperate breaths and stare down at Tony – who didn’t even hesitate, reaching for the fastener of his uniform jacket and tugging it down.

“Don’t- don’t say anything, please,” Tony begged, as he tossed the jacket over onto a chair before he reached for the fastener on his mustard yellow shirt. He hesitated only for a second before he pulled it down, sickly green light spilling out over his fingers as he tugged the fastener down over his ribcage.

Steve stared as he tugged the shirt off, revealing the circular cavity in the centre of his chest with its unidentifiable transparent casing protecting the eerie, swirling green light within. The dark metal, slightly greenish, that stretched out horizontally across his pectoral muscles, carving through the spots that ran down either side of his chest, fused with his natural ribcage and partly covered by thick, ropey scar tissue, looked even more horrific, he knew.

“I can’t- I don’t want to talk about- just don’t touch it, _please_ ,” Tony begged, and Steve’s eyes snapped up to his face, darting back and forth as if he couldn’t decide which questions to ask first. But he seemed to take Tony’s pleas to heart and nodded, once.

“Come here,” Steve rasped, hooking his fingers into the waistband of Tony’s pants and tugging him forward so that their mouths could meet again.

Tony felt the sharp spike of arousal displacing the terror and anxiety that had filled him, upon exposing himself, and he clutched at Steve, hands reaching for his uniform shirt, wanting to even the playing field – even if it would never, ever be the same. Steve’s body was sculpted perfection, thanks to whatever augment DNA was in that temporal rift, and Tony had to fight down the wave of envy that he felt as he unzipped Steve’s shirt and traced his fingertips over those perfect muscles and flawless skin.

He felt them ripple with the motion of Steve shrugging off the shirt, tossing it carelessly onto the floor. Steve leaned down, bending awkwardly so that he could bring his mouth to that same spot on the side of Tony’s jaw that he’d been preoccupied with the other night, and the arousal he felt from the press of Steve’s lips and tongue was countered by the discomfort he felt at the reminder of their last argument.

“You can count my spots another time,” Tony offered, hoping it came out teasing rather than slightly panicked. But either way, Steve pulled back to look at him, then brought his hand down to the fastener of Tony’s trousers.

“Whatever you want,” he agreed, fingers nimbly opening Tony’s pants. But he hesitated, hand hovering over the fabric encasing Tony’s cock, which was already straining against it, and looked into Tony’s eyes. “Is this alright?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Tony confirmed, feeling waves of anxiety and arousal swirling together throughout his whole body. He just felt so on edge, so desperate for this, for Steve. They’d very nearly lost each other, in the battle, and the reality of that made everything else fall away to the background.

Steve must have felt the same, if the way his hand swept in and grabbed hold of Tony’s cock, the second he had Tony’s permission, was any indication.

Tony groaned at the contact, as Steve felt along the shape of him, his hands so much warmer than Tony’s own.

Steve leaned in, pressing his mouth sloppily against Tony’s, both of them already panting. “What- what do you want?” Steve asked, his hand starting to lazily pump up and down Tony’s shaft.

Tony felt his hole clench and unclench in time with the rhythm, dampness starting to accumulate, and moaned lowly. “I-“ he gasped out, struggling with words, the possibilities racing through his mind. “I want you inside me again,” he finally managed.

Steve groaned, hand tightening around him and making Tony whine. “Fuck,” he gasped, then leaned forward to mouth at the side of Tony’s neck, his other hand moving from keeping Tony’s hip steady to curve around the swell of his backside, fingers tracing down towards his hole, which fluttered at the sensation.

“Here,” Tony said, reaching forward to undo Steve’s trousers, but then gently pulling Steve’s hand out of his own pants so that he could hook his fingers into the waistband and tug everything down – only to curse when he reached his boots.

Steve chuckled, “Let me,” he offered, leaning down, but Tony shimmied away.

“No, no, I’ve got it,” he insisted, tone indignant, stumbling slightly as he leaned down, naked ass in the air, to try to pull his boots off.

“You’re going to trip,” Steve argued, laughter in his voice – and then he reached down and scooped Tony up like he weighed nothing, turning him around and placing him on the bed so that he could reach down and tug his boots off, and his pants along with it.

“I could have managed,” Tony insisted, folding his arms over his chest and pouting.

Steve looked up at him so fondly that Tony’s heart squeezed, “Sure you could have,” he said in that tone that meant he was just humouring him.

“Ugh, I should have gone down with my ship, so I wouldn’t have to sit here being insulted by you,” Tony grumbled, but immediately regretted it when Steve’s face went pale and stricken.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered.

Tony shook his head, desperate to fix things, damn it, “Of course I don’t, I was just joking.” A bit of the colour returned to Steve’s cheeks but he still looked upset. Tony swore, face scrunching up. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Steve. Really, I promise, I am _so_ glad to still be alive – and even more glad that you are. I was so fucking worried.”

“So was I,” Steve murmured, finally leaning forward to gently grasp Tony’s face. “Every time you leave I’m worried it’s the last time I’m ever going to see you,” he confessed, staring into Tony’s eyes so intensely it was as if he could see into his very soul.

Tony’s throat tightened and he swore the damn light in his chest started swirling faster, whorls of sickly green light dancing across Steve’s bare chest. “Steve,” he choked out, reaching up for him.

Their mouths came crashing together with even more desperation than when he’d first arrived. It was like Steve was trying to devour him, leaning down and pressing his weight into the mattress with such ferocity that Tony instinctively tried to move back, knowing he was going to hurt his back if they kept going at this awkward angle.

Steve went with the motion, placing his knee up on the mattress beside Tony’s thighs as he shuffled backwards on the bed, their mouths still frantic as they moved against each other.

They disconnected for a brief moment, when Steve stopped to shuck his pants off and they both moved so that they were completely horizontal on the bed at last, and then Tony only had a second to admire Steve in all his naked glory before all of his weight was pressing Tony down into the mattress, his hands still cupping his face as if it was precious.

Tony reached up, letting his hands roam, down the planes of Steve’s back and tracing up over the sharply defined muscles of his chest before curving back around across his shoulders and down his arms. Steve moaned at the motion, then shifted so that their groins were finally pressing together, their cocks rubbing against each other.

Tony groaned, rocking his hips so that it happened again, the friction sending sparks shooting up and down his spine.

They moved against each other, motions growing more and more frantic, and Tony felt wetness beginning to seep out onto the covers of the bed beneath them.

But the motions and position were also making him more and more uncomfortably aware of the protrusion of his chest. Steve’s pecs brushed against it, now that they were closer together, and every time it happened Tony felt a wave of sick anxiety that was growing stronger and stronger than the arousal and pleasure.

“Wait,” he finally gasped out, and Steve immediately pushed himself up and off Tony, holding himself above him with worry in his eyes.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? We can stop,” he said, breathing harshly but still sounding so earnest.

Tony shook his head quickly, “Sorry, sorry, it’s- I can’t-“ he gasped out, trying to gesture at his chest, but the act of speaking up, the way Steve stopped instantly, so concerned and considerate, was making Tony feel even more panicked and ashamed and choked up.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, moving so that he was sitting beside Tony, who sat up suddenly, curling over himself as if he could hide his chest away. Steve’s hand hovered over his shoulder, and he repeated, “Really, it’s okay, Tony. I’m sorry, I should have thought-“

“No,” Tony shook his head as he choked out the words, “Not your fault. I didn’t realise either. I haven’t- you’re the first person I’ve been with since-”

Then he turned and pressed his face into Steve’s chest, tucking himself under Steve’s chin. Steve seemed to take that as permission to touch him (which it was) and very, very gently placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder, stroking back and forth lightly with his thumb.

Tony felt the panic begin to ease and settle, as Steve held him, and the shame and embarrassment rise in its place. But he refused to deal with either right now, not when he finally had this chance to be with Steve again.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything,” Steve said, when Tony finally felt himself relax, murmuring the words into Tony’s hair and then pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I want to,” Tony immediately replied, his arousal returning to the front of his awareness now that the anxiety had finally dissipated.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, I don’t want to trigger you a second time,” Steve said, and when Tony gently moved back and raised his head to face him he could see the concerned frown on Steve’s face.

“I have an idea,” Tony offered, voice low as he felt anticipation building up inside him again, “For how we can avoid that happening again.” He bit his bottom lip and looked up at Steve through his lashes, knowing he wasn’t entirely playing fair, but needing to convince him that he was actually fine, now.

Steve flushed, and Tony could tell that his frown was softening, but he was still wary. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable again,” he insisted.

“If you do, I’ll tell you and we won’t try again,” Tony replied, feeling a strange desperation rise up in him. The last thing he wanted was to talk about anything right now. If they didn’t do this, then Steve would inevitably ask the questions he was going to ask. But Tony knew if he ran away again, now, he might never get another chance with Steve.

Enough of the wariness left Steve’s face that he knew he’d almost convinced him. Tony smirked, and very deliberately rose up on his knees, stretching to show off his body (the parts that weren’t ruined still looked good at least) before he shuffled toward the headboard and then arching his back as he reached for it.

He looked back over his shoulder at Steve, who met his gaze and then swallowed heavily, his cheeks flushing bright crimson.

“You’re sure?” he confirmed, holding himself very still.

Tony schooled his face into a serious expression before nodding. “I am. And I promise, I’ll tell you if that changes.”

Steve exhaled loudly, and then slowly shuffled over on his knees until he was behind Tony. He reached out and very slowly ran his hand down Tony’s shoulder and along his back to his ass. Tony moaned softly at the contact, feeling the tension ease out of him. Steve must have felt it too, because he did it again, slightly firmer this time, and ending with a squeeze of one of Tony’s asscheeks that had him moaning louder.

Steve leaned forward, over his back, though not pressed flush against him, and twisted his neck so that he could kiss Tony – though the angle wasn’t particularly comfortable. When the strain was too much for Tony he broke the kiss, letting his head droop forward again and arching back into Steve slightly.

Steve groaned at the motion, one of his hands steading Tony’s hip, and the other carefully tracing along Tony’s hip before dipping down to grasp his cock in his long fingers. Tony let out a throaty groan, his hip straining against Steve’s grip as he tried to thrust down into Steve’s fingers. Steve’s grip tightened in response, both on his hip and around his cock, and he began pumping his dick – slowly at first, but the more Tony tried to move with him, his body starting to hold tension of the pleasurable variety rather than the panicked one, the more Steve seemed to accept that he really was into this and sped up. His fingers spread the pre-come gathering on the tip of Tony’s cock along the rest of the shaft, smoothing the way as he squeezed his hand up and down faster and faster.

“Steve,” Tony gasped out, and Steve immediately stopped. “No, no, don’t stop – but if you keep that up, I’m going to come before you even get inside me.”

“Oh, is that all?” he said, sounding relieved, then Tony felt a puff of laughter against the nape of his neck, “Well, we couldn’t have that, could we?” He lazily stroked down Tony’s cock one last time before he pulled away to rearrange his limbs. Desire and anticipation shot down Tony’s spine as he felt Steve’s solid presence behind him. “You’re still sure?” Steve checked.

Tony groaned out of exasperation, “Absolutely. Now come on.”

“Always so impatient,” Steve chastised, but he immediately pressed the tip of his cock against the entrance to Tony’s hole, guiding it inside with one hand, as the other squeezed Tony’s hip. Steve gasped, “Oh god, you’re so wet,” and Tony felt a gush of fluid as his internal muscles rippled in response.

He groaned at the feeling, trying to press himself back into the sensation despite Steve’s duranium grip. He would try to maintain their playful banter, much preferring it to the serious looks and threats of actual conversation, but the desperation from earlier had returned, as Steve pushed himself completely inside him, his hips pressing against the swell of Tony’s ass.

“T _o_ ny,” Steve moaned, sounding like he was feeling the same, both hands now grasping Tony’s hips.

“Steve, _please_ ,” Tony begged, though it was unnecessary. Steve pulled back in one smooth motion and then slammed forward again, setting a pace that might have been too much, if Tony wasn’t feeling all of the emotions he’d been trying to suppress rising up. His fear of dying, fear of losing Steve, the terror and tragedy of losing his ship.

He braced his arms against the headboard, feeling his not inconsiderable muscles (honed from years of hands-on work) engaging and putting their strength to use as he rocked back to meet every one of Steve’s frantic thrusts.

Steve groaned, and then he leaned forward, hips still pistoning into him even as he placed his hands beside Tony’s on the headboard so that he could curve over Tony’s back. Tony turned his head to the side and pressed his mouth to Steve’s in a kiss that only fit the loosest definition of the word – pressure and saliva and vibrations from the sounds they both kept making.

When they had to pull away to breathe, oxygen coming in short supply now, Steve pushed himself back effortlessly, straightening up and then grabbing Tony’s hips again as his own began fucking into him even faster.

“Steve, Steve, fuck,” Tony gasped out, his entire body electric with sensation, his arms straining, hips bruised, sweat pooling in the small of his back and dripping down his face from his hair.

“Nnngh, Tony,” Steve groaned in response, his cock driving into Tony’s body over and over, hard and perfect and setting all of Tony’s nerve endings alight.

Tony considered moving his hand, to touch his cock, but didn’t want to risk them toppling over with the force Steve was exerting. “Can you-? Touch-?” he managed to get out.

Luckily Steve seemed to understand, with another ragged groan at the request, he shifted all of his grip to his left hand on Tony’s hip and freed his right – which immediately reached around and grabbed Tony’s cock in a tight grip that had his mouth open around a silent gasp.

“Hold on,” Steve murmured, a minute later, before he pulled out of Tony – who whined at the loss. Then Steve’s fingers were pressed inside him, right up to the knuckles. He took a second to guide his cock back inside Tony before he wrapped his now drenched fingers back around Tony’s cock. “Better,” Steve gasped, hips snapping back into their frantic pace, and all Tony could do was let out desperate, needy sounds at the feeling of Steve’s long, slippery fingers squeezing up and down his cock in time to his thrusts.

It took no time at all for him to feel the snapping electricity racing down his spine as his orgasm crashed out of him, spilling against Steve’s fingers and splattering come down across Steve’s bed.

Steve’s noises became incoherent, his grip slackening around Tony as Tony’s internal muscles squeezed and clenched and rippled around his cock. He pumped himself in and out of Tony with sharp, desperate thrusts that were losing all sense of rhythm, and Tony felt almost as urgent to make Steve come. Needed to know that he could bring him such pleasure. Wanted desperately to be filled by his release, for his greedy body to take everything Steve was willing to give.

“Steve,” he whined, “Please, need you-“

Steve made a high pitched sound Tony never imagined he could make, as his cock plunged in and out of Tony as his orgasm exploded out of him. Tony’s internal muscles rippled around him in response, pumping Steve’s cock for every last drop, sending another wave of searing pleasure through Tony and another burst of come spurting out of his cock.

“Oh my god,” Steve choked out, their bodies still moving together with the aftershocks.

“Uh-huh,” was all Tony could manage in response, feeling overwhelming emotion strangling his throat even as his body sang with pleasure and satisfaction.

Steve’s grip once again turned gentle, smoothing down Tony’s spotted thighs and stroking along his sweaty back. He leaned down to press a kiss to the back of Tony’s head and down the top vertebrae of his spine and Tony closed his eyes, desperately willing away the tears that threatened to overcome him.

They both let out ragged noises when Steve finally pulled his cock free and Tony felt his hole flutter at the emptiness. But he let himself be manhandled into lying down on the bed by Steve, trying to think of how he was going to get out of here without upsetting Steve again.

Luckily, fate was on his side, as Steve let out a huge yawn, his hand resting against Tony’s waist as he spooned up against Tony’s back.

“Is this okay?” Steve mumbled into his hair, his exhaustion clearly catching up with him.

“Mmhmm,” Tony replied, closing his eyes and trying to go with his body’s relaxation, ignoring the swirl of panic that was beginning to creep across him.

“Lights off,” Steve called out, sleepily, and the room was plunged into darkness – broken by the sickly light coming from Tony’s chest.

He waited until he could hear Steve’s gentle snores behind him, then very, very slowly and carefully slid himself off the bed. He quietly retrieved his uniform, slipping the pants and shirt back on and shoving his feet into his boots. Steve rolled over, at that point, and he didn’t even bother with the jacket, just made a beeline for the door and was out in the corridor and halfway back to his own quarters before he shrugged it on.

Maria was waiting for him when he stepped into his quarters.

 _You should talk to him_ , she said, as he ignored her presence and tugged all his clothes back off to step into the shower.

 _He’ll understand_ , she insisted, as he fought against the waves of panic threatening to overwhelm him, scrubbing the sweat and come and _Steve_ off his skin as efficiently as possible.

 _You already saw that he-_ , she began, as he emerged and put his uniform through a refresh.

“Enough!” he snarled, not even looking in her direction but able to sense her disapproval, as he pulled the uniform back on, needing to make sure he appeared presentable.

Then he left his quarters and made a beeline for Admiral Fury’s office.


	8. VII

“Tony … Tony! Damn it, Tony! Would you please _stop_!”

Tony scrunched his eyes shut and came to a stop in the middle of the corridor, fighting back the urge to sprint away before Steve could catch him. His quarters were only down the corridor, he could probably have the door locked before Steve realised what he’d done.

Exhaustion tugged at his limbs, his head was pounding and even closing his eyes for a second threatened to send him off to sleep, nevermind that he was still standing up.

It was entirely possible that Sam might have had a point, when he shooed him out of the lab ten minutes ago. He’d been awake for at least seventy-two hours straight – though the tiredness was only beginning to catch up to him now, as he was finally making his way to bed.

So having this conversation was honestly the last thing he needed right now.

“Whats’up Steve?” he slurred out, forcing his eyes open and turning around to face him when the footsteps finally stopped behind him.

Compared to Tony and the permanent dark circles under his eyes, Steve looked as healthy and alert as ever, but there was a pinch in his brow that hadn’t gone away for weeks now.

“What’s up?” Steve replied incredulously, pinch drawing into a full-fledged frown, “You know exactly ‘what’s up’! You’ve been avoiding me for a _month_ now Tony and I’ve had enough.” He folded his arms across his chest, staring down at Tony with his most determined Captain face.

But Tony was way, way too tired to do this now. A muscle in his temple began throbbing and he groaned. “Listen, I’m sorry I haven’t been around, but I’m working on this project – real important, could change the course of the war, type project – that’s super duper classified, on Fury’s orders, so I haven’t had time to see _anyone_. Not just you.”

Steve actually rolled his eyes at that. “For fuck’s sake Tony, do you really expect me to buy that? I’ve seen you in the Spire with Doctor Banner and the rest of your team. And I know none of you are stupid enough to talk about your classified work out of the restricted areas. So it seems like you _have_ had at least some time to see people – just not me.” He didn’t even sound accusing when he said it, just resigned.

Tony winced, “Look, I … I know I may have been … avoiding certain things, lately. But I swear, as soon as this project is finished, we’ll talk, okay?”

Steve’s lips thinned. “Well it’s funny you should say that, because Admiral Fury has asked me to attend a meeting at 0800 hours tomorrow to brief me on your project.”

Panic flared in Tony’s gut and his temple throbbed. “Oh, has he? Right, yep, well, that’s exactly why I’ve gotta go and get some sleep. Gotta get up bright and early,” he babbled, already stepping backwards and away from Steve.

But Steve’s hand locked around his upper arm with an iron grip, before he could turn around and flee. “Wait! Tony, please,” he begged.

Tony flinched at the contact and Steve immediately let go, distress flashing across his face. “I- I really need to sleep, Steve,” Tony said, desperately, feeling the corridor starting to waver around him.

“I- Yeah, okay-“ Steve agreed, rubbing a hand across his face, “Just … please, you don’t have to talk to me, but please, just … remember that I’m here for you Tony, okay?”

“I’ll remember,” Tony replied, turning away before Steve could see the tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. “See you in the morning Cap!” he called out, before fleeing to his quarters as fast as his legs could take him. He locked the door behind him as soon as he entered and leaned back against it, thunking his head against the hard surface and cursing. He scrubbed a hand over his eyes, ignoring the moisture he wiped away. It was the exhaustion, that’s all.

And newfound anxiety – Fury had said he was still considering who would be the leader of their team, now that the project was almost complete, but Tony had been under the impression that Captain Danvers was going to lead them. But if Fury was briefing Steve along with the rest of them in the morning, then it seemed that he’d have to face the other man sooner than he thought.

Groaning in despair, Tony didn’t even bother with a shower, just tugged his boots and jacket off and crashed out on the bed. He was so exhausted that even with the panic crackling in his chest in counterpoint to the pounding in his skull, he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

~

“Stark!”

Tony was racing down the corridor, his footsteps echoing against the harsh metal grating of the deck plates.

But no matter how fast he ran he couldn’t reach the familiar voice. It called to him over and over from the end of the corridor – an end that he could never reach.

“Tony! Help me!”

The cold metal fingers that grabbed him, suddenly, pulling and pushing him until he was stretched across the cold metal surface, seemed almost secondary. The dream was starting to get tedious, his awareness beginning to creep in more and more with each repetition.

The lifeless eyes and lifeless faces that stared down at him were less menacing spectres haunting him and more the memory of poor, innocent people taken by the Borg and made into grotesque parodies of themselves. People who were just as horrified by what they were being made to do, as he was to have it done to him.

He didn’t even bother trying to escape, knowing he wouldn’t get away now anymore than he’d gotten away then. But he still jerked and shuddered as the assimilation tubules pierced his neck, and at the rush of heat and electricity from his nerves’ last signals before the nanoprobes overwhelmed them. The icy cold that spread was of far less interest to him than the voice, closer now than it had ever been before.

“Please, Tony!” it called to him. If he could only turn his head to the side, he’d be able to see.

But, as always, the rest of the Collective rushed in – the memories of his final moments, as Assimilation overwhelmed his body and mind, as he was joined to the thousands of drones in the Hive of the diamond, whatever was left of who they were as individuals crying out for his help.

Was the familiar voice just another one? If he turned, would he see Captain Stane? Or Commander Hammer? Remember their last pleas to him, before the diamond had self-destructed and taken them with it? They might have been responsible for their own assimilation, but he’d still left them there to their fate. He’d let them die, when he could have – should have – found a way to save them, as well as himself.

He shuddered at the thought, throat choking with it, and closed his eyes so he couldn’t see the voice’s face, even if it did appear.

He woke up sobbing. Great heaving motions that made his lungs feel empty and tight. His face was damp and swollen, his nose blocked and snot was dripping down into his facial hair.

He clutched the covers on his bed, which he hadn’t even managed to get under last night, trying to ground himself in the soft fabric under his fingers.

 _Shhh, it’s okay_ , Maria whispered, non-existent fingers going through the motions of carding through his hair, of gently stroking his face. He couldn’t feel the physical sensations, of course, but the wave of reassurance and calmness that spread through him from Stark relaxed his chest enough that he could suck in a proper breath of air. _That’s it_ , she whispered, _just breathe_.

Tony focused on pulling air into his lungs.

Focused on feeling his chest expand, even around the metal that obstructed it.

Focused on letting it out again, slowly, the noise of his exhale the only sound in the quiet darkness of his quarters.

In.

And out.

In.

And out.

He didn’t know how long it was, before he finally felt calm enough to stop focusing on his breath. “JARVIS, quarter lights,” he called out, blinking against the gentle illumination. “Time?”

“It is 0600 hours 48 minutes, Sir,” JARVIS replied.

“Thanks J,” Tony murmured, as he carefully sat up, still feeling shaky and drained from the crying.

He shuffled, slowly, into the shower, shedding his uniform as he went. The warm water that washed over him made him feel grounded, and he let himself just stand under the spray, soaking in the warmth, letting it wash away the residue of tears and snot and sweat. He carefully washed the metal sticking out of his chest, fingers gentle as they brushed over the scar tissue and hard metal surfaces alike. He stared down at it, mesmerised by the light as it swirled and pulsed, but ultimately had to look away, when the overwhelm started to creep back in.

He wrapped himself in a fluffy towel and made his way out of the fresher, replicated himself a stack of Terran pancakes with blueberries, scrambled Ktarian eggs, and cold icoberry juice. He ate it all slowly.

By the time he was done, he felt close to normal again, with a fragility under the surface that he wasn’t sure he could get rid of, even if he tried.

So he just pulled on a clean uniform, brushed his teeth and hair, and made his way to the briefing room.

Carol was the only person in the room when he arrived, and he felt a surge of hope that maybe his initial theory that she would be their team leader was correct after all.

“Stark,” she greeted, sipping from a mug. But then she looked at him a second time and a concerned frown appeared on her face. “Are you alright?” she asked, actually coming over to him.

The word fine was on the tip of his tongue, but to both of their surprise what he actually said was, “Rough night. Nightmares.”

Sympathy softened her features, “I’m sorry. It can’t be easy for you, dealing with this war on top of everything else.”

He huffed out a bitter laugh. “Actually … the war helps,” he admitted.

Her lips thinned, but she nodded. “I get that. The Cardassian war helped me come to terms with what happened to me,” she confided.

He blinked, startled. But then covered his surprise with a quirk of his lips, “You never _did_ show me your cool Kree powers.”

She smirked at him, “We’ll have to go to the target range sometime.”

“I’d like that,” he replied, surprised to realise that it was true.

Their moment was abruptly cut off as the door whooshed open and most of the team Tony had been working with streamed in. Bruce and Thor were arguing about something, as usual, while Shuri and Jane were somehow managing to walk and enter calculations onto a PADD Jane was holding at the same time, their faces so close together over the screen he was surprised they hadn’t banged into each other. Darcy was saying something that made Peter laugh and Sam roll his eyes in exasperation, though Tony wasn’t staying put to find out what – he made a beeline for the replicator, wanting to grab his cup of coffee before the rest of them crowded in.

It was only a matter of seconds after his drink materialised before Shuri was leaning in next to him to place her order in the replicator – and then he was being waylaid by questions, Jane shoving the PADD into his other hand as she leaned around him to get her own coffee.

All of them chose their seats, around the enormous table that took up most of the space in the room, based on whoever they were talking to in that moment.

And Tony was so busy discussing the fabrication intermix ratio with Jane that he didn’t even realise Fury had entered until he cleared his throat and the whole room fell silent – all of them looking up to find the Admiral standing at the head of the table, hands clasped behind his back, and Steve standing beside him.

“If we’re all here,” Fury began, taking his seat at the head of the table and giving Steve a look until he sat beside him, opposite Carol. Then he turned his one-eyed gaze on Tony, “Commander Stark, if you’d begin your briefing.”

“Right,” Tony agreed, hiding his surprise. He’d expected Fury to want to kick things off, but he went with it, taking a big gulp of his coffee and ignoring the way it burned his tongue, as he stood and activated the display, revealing the project he’d been obsessively working on for the past four weeks. “May I present, for those of you who haven’t already seen it, the USS Avenger – prototype and first in line of Starfleet’s new Avenger-class starship.”

The screen beside him lit up with their beauty – chosen from amongst the designs Tony had come up with while on leave before the war, but improved a hundredfold by the creative genius of his colleagues (now friends, he’d like to think). She was sleek and curved and graceful, but there was a ferocity to her design, the sharp angles in contrast to the curves making her look dangerous like a Zadarian dolphin or a Terran shark.

Steve whistled in clear appreciation and Tony felt a wave of pride. “That’s one beautiful ship,” Steve said, but then frowned, “But this isn’t exactly the time for a design project? We’re in the middle of a war – and unless Starfleet’s started being able to replicate ships whole, it takes years to build a starship of that size.”

“Yeah, about that,” Tony said, smirking. “How about a single month?” He tapped a button and the schematic switched to a camera displaying a live feed from inside the incredibly top secret, possibly illegally cloaked shipyard that also orbited Aspida alongside the Triskelion. There, in all her glory, was the Avenger. She was only about eighty percent complete, but even as they watched they could see the golden orbs streaming silver light onto the missing sections, slowly filling them in, as they had been for the past three weeks.

“Dear god,” Steve exclaimed, sounding suitably stunned. “How?”

Tony looked over at Thor and smiled, “The Federation’s first technology exchange with Asgard.”

“Our contribution to your war effort,” Thor explained, raising his chin and looking incredibly smug, “It took some convincing, and I’m afraid that as soon as the war is over it must be returned, but my people have no more desire to see the civilisations here be taken over by the Dominion than you do. Not when we have only just started to get to know you.” He looked over at Jane at that, eyes fond, and she flushed and returned the grin.

Tony looked back at Steve. “It’ll be another few years-“

“Decades,” Thor interjected, as he always did.

“-until we have our own version of it. But in the meantime, this means we’ll be able to get a new ship every month – and with these Avengers out there, the Dominion won’t know what hit them!” Tony concluded, ignoring Thor’s pessimism (fuelled as much by his belief in the superiority of Asgardian technology as his ignorance to the fact that Bruce and Tony had done some sneaky scans on the devices to try to figure out how they worked).

He ran through the specs for the benefit of Steve and Carol – giving them a cursory explanation of all the unique technology and weaponry they’d incorporated, thanks to all the research being done by SHIELD – and watched as their eyes grew wider and wider as the ship’s potential began to sink in.

“Of course, a lot of this technology is still in the prototype stage,” Bruce interjected, ever the pessimist, counterbalancing Tony’s over the top optimism.

“But we haven’t included anything that wasn’t already extensively tested,” Tony reassured, already anticipating the concerns that Bruce’s words would bring. “Worst case scenario, it doesn’t work as well as hoped – but nothing is going to blow up or put us in any danger if it doesn’t work.”

“Which brings us to the next point on our agenda,” Fury smoothly interjected, steepling his fingers in front of him and leaning back in his chair. “The latest intelligence reports from Starfleet Command indicate that things are coming to a head. The Dominion has retreated into Cardassian territory and developed a fortified perimeter, in response to the blows dealt to them by the Cardassian rebellion before they were crushed. They expect us to back down, rather than attempt to breach the perimeter, but I – and many of the other Admirals, including Admiral Ross and Captain Sisko himself – believe now is the time to press for a final victory. And I want the Avenger to be there.”

Steve and Carol exchanged glances, at that, but neither dared ask the question they were all thinking. And Fury was apparently waiting for a dramatic pause before he told them – so Tony interjected. “So who’s going to be her Captain?”

A brief flicker of annoyance (probably for stealing his thunder) crossed Fury’s face, and he looked first at Steve, then at Carol, before he let the corner of his lips tilt up. “Both of you are.”

“What?” Steve asked, startled, only a second before Carol did the same. They both exchanged shocked looks – as did the rest of the table. Even Tony was shocked into silence, for a change.

Fury leaned forward in his chair and they all leaned toward him, waiting to hear his explanation. “As she is only a prototype, and you will be testing her under battle conditions, it is only logical that the Avenger has two Captains on hand to ensure that she runs smoothly, particularly when using her multi-vector assault mode.”

“Her what?” Steve asked, glancing over at Tony, who was already tapping at his PADD to bring up the schematic, demonstrating the way the Avenger could split into two separate sections.

“Multi-vector assault mode. It’s an experimental mode for combat that I designed for the prototype Prometheus-class, where the ship can separate into separate sections, specifically designed to be self-contained, to allow for multiple vectors of assault and also provide multiple targets,” he explained, “The Prometheus was designed for deep space assignments, where you wouldn’t have any backup, but the prototype had some problems with its automation. And, uh, was briefly stolen by the Romulans, before they joined the war, so I needed to take the idea back to the drawing board. I’ve pared it back to two sections, for the Avenger, with more manual operation – which might not be ideal going forward, as it needs a higher personnel compliment, but that’s why she’s still a prototype,” he concluded with a shrug.

“Hence, two Captains – one for each section,” Fury said, “After this battle, if it indeed takes place, and assuming the Avenger comes back in one piece, we can decide which of you will take command permanently. While the other can command her sister ship, which we’ll start building as soon as the Avenger is complete.”

Carol relaxed an imperceptible amount, at Fury’s explanation, though Steve was still looking concerned. “What about during the battle? And when the ship isn’t in this … multi-vector mode?”

“The three of us can discuss that during the week, I’m sure we’ll come up with a satisfactory arrangement,” Fury said, “Right now, we need to discuss the Avenger’s crew, given that some of your officers have taken assignments on other ships, and then familiarise you both with the ship and its new systems. The fleet for this battle could be assembled any day now, and we need to be ready to join it as soon as the ship is complete.”

As they began to get into the nitty gritty of crew assignments, and his team of scientists and engineers began having sneaky silent conversations via PADD, Tony could only pray that they were up to the monumental task ahead.

~

The next week was a blur for Tony, as they worked frantically to prepare the ship in time for the coming battle. The only upside of which was that Steve was too busy to force Tony to talk to him. They passed each other often, in the Triskelion corridors, or on the Avenger herself, where Tony was now busy preparing main engineering (while Sam was getting the auxiliary engine room ready). But they never had time for more than a nod or shared look of nervous exhaustion.

Starfleet ordered the Allied fleet to assemble at Deep Space Nine on the fifth day after their meeting with Fury.

“We’re not ready!” Tony blurted out, despairing, when Fury brought them the news.

“You have twelve hours to get ready,” Fury ordered, his glower even more formidable than usual, “Or else all of this has been for nothing.”

It would have taken a Rite of Recall for Tony to remember the specifics of the next twelve hours of that day. All he remembered was the feeling of being in about a hundred places at once, on the Avenger, making the final adjustments to the systems that needed to be completed while docked, and watching their crew board, faces grim and determined. None of them wanted to miss out on a chance to deliver what they all hoped would be the final blow to the Dominion.

He honestly wasn’t sure, right up until the last minute, whether they were going to make it or not. He didn’t remember making his way to the bridge – just remembered standing at the engineering console, monitoring and tweaking and checking a few dozen systems in preparation for the launch, as Steve and Carol stood side-by-side in front of the two captain’s chairs. They exchanged a significant look, before turning in perfect sync and sitting down, both of them straight backed with their chins held high.

Admiral Fury appeared on the viewscreen, glowering at them all, before an honest to goodness grim smile curved across his face. “You should have just enough time to catch up with the rest of the fleet at Cardassia, if you leave now Captains,” he said.

“We’ll try to bring her back in one piece,” Steve replied, with a teasing smile that Tony was surprised to see directed at Fury.

“You’d better,” Fury growled. Then nodded once, “On behalf of SHIELD, I order you to give them hell.”

“We will, Sir,” Carol said, gripping the armrest of her chair and looking determined.

“Good,” Fury replied, then he lifted his right hand and spread his fingers in the Vulcan salute, “Live long and prosper, Avenger – and Qapla’!”

The channel closed, and the air around them felt electric, all of them already beginning to buzz with pre-battle adrenaline – or maybe it was still from the post-crunch time adrenaline that had kept them going.

Either way, Carol and Steve exchanged another look, then Carol tapped her armrest. “Danvers to Romanoff and Potts – how are things looking on the auxiliary bridge Commanders?”

“We’re ready Captain,” Pepper’s voice replied over the comm.

“All the crew is aboard,” Romanoff added, “Waiting on your orders Captain.”

“Understood,” Carol replied, looking over at Steve, who gave her a nod.

“Take us out Lieutenant, quarter impulse,” he ordered.

“Aye, Sir,” Jan replied, hands dancing over the controls.

And then they were off – to join a battle, and hopefully win a war.


	9. VIII

It was going to take them a day to meet up with the Allied fleet, then another for them to reach Cardassia Prime, and Tony spent thirty-six of those hours running around the ship, desperately trying to fix last minute problems and re-calibrate systems that they hadn’t had enough time to test. Even with Bruce, Jane, Darcy, Peter and Thor onboard helping to maintain all the systems they’d designed, along with Sam in their second engineering section (and their huge complement of engineers) it was still a monumental task – and Tony feared it might have been a foolish plan, to bring a ship so untested into battle.

He went up to the bridge to say as much to Pepper, knowing that he’d never forgive himself if he didn’t raise his concerns.

She sighed, heavily, when he’d finished, the two of them tucked away in the pseudo privacy of the engineering console at the back of the bridge. “Tony, do you really think Admiral Fury would have sent us out here if he shared your concerns?”

“I’m not sure that he understood the full magnitude-“ he argued, but Pepper sighed again.

“You think _Admiral Fury_ didn’t understand what he was doing when he approved your experiment to build the Avenger – and then continued to not understand for an entire month, and has sent us out here with many of SHIELD’s best officers and consultants, on a ship that he doesn’t actually believe is safe?” she said, giving him her most exasperated look.

“ … Well when you put it like that,” Tony replied, rubbing a hand across his face.

“Do you know what I think the real concern is?” Pepper asked, tilting her head and raising an eyebrow at him.

He blinked at her, anxiety growing. “What?”

“That our chief engineer is exhausted and could make dangerous mistakes in the coming battle if he doesn’t go and get some sleep right now,” she said, with a look so pointed even he couldn’t fail to understand.

“Oh,” he said, only just realising how tired he actually was. “Yeah, that’s fair. I’ll go.”

Her face softened and she placed her hand on his upper arm and squeezed gently, “Good. Get some rest.” Then she rolled her eyes and shook her head, “Honestly, it’s a miracle you and Steve survived on the America, if Howard was anything like you, Carol just had to send him off to get some sleep ten minutes ago too.”

Tony felt anxiety squeeze his chest, suddenly, “Oh, really? Well, then we should both be well rested in the morning.” Then he smiled at her, though it might have come across more grim than intended, and made his way to the turbolift, nodding at Carol as he passed her.

He made his way to his quarters, not even bothering to take off more than his boots before he tugged the covers over himself and went to sleep.

But it felt like no time at all had passed when he blinked awake, feeling slightly more rested but far, far more anxious.

“JARVIS, what’s our ETA?” he croaked out, stumbling out of bed and going to replicate some water to soothe his parched throat.

“There are still approximately six hours until we reach Cardassia Prime,” JARVIS informed him.

Tony drank his water slowly, considering.

Even if they weren’t in an experimental prototype starship, there was – as always – the very real possibility that they would die, in the coming battle. And Tony knew, with the sort of sick, certain clarity that made anxiety roil in his gut – that had woken him from sleep – that he had to go and talk to Steve.

He made his way to Steve’s quarters quickly, thankful that they weren’t far away, and pressed the door chime before he had time to rethink his course of action.

“Come in!” he heard Steve call, and he took a deep, steadying breath before he pressed the button to open the door and entered.

Steve was sitting in the armchair of his quarters’ seating area, a comfortable-looking blue bathrobe wrapped around him, and a mug of something in one hand, a PADD in the other.

“I thought you’d been sent to get some sleep,” Tony blurted out, somewhat surprised that he hadn’t woken him up as he thought he would – and unsure whether to be glad or not, to be facing an apparently alert and awake Steve.

“Tony,” Steve said, surprised, “I, uh, only just got up – I don’t need that much sleep any more, since the … uh, temporal rift.”

“Oh,” Tony replied, feeling dumb even as he said it, and doubly so when no further words seemed to want to come out of his mouth.

“What can I do for you?” Steve asked, in the familiar way he’d spoken to Howard, all those decades ago, when Stark would come to his quarters seeking advice or wanting to discuss some ship’s matter or other.

But Tony wasn’t here about the battle, or the Avenger. He wavered, for a minute, before finally forcing his legs to move and sitting down across from Steve, on the other armchair. “I wanted to talk to you,” he finally made himself say.

One of Steve’s eyebrows rose and he looked at Tony over the top of his PADD. “You’ve had a whole month, but you want to talk to me _now_?”

Part of Tony wanted to look away, to get up and leave, apologise for bothering him, do _anything_ except have this conversation. But it was like some other, braver, part of him had woken up and was finally in the pilot’s seat. Or maybe it was just that he knew that this might be his last chance. He met Steve’s gaze evenly, face sombre, and simply replied, “Yes.”

Steve stared back at him, considering, and then tapped the PADD off and placed it on the glass coffee table that sat between them. “Okay. I’m listening.”

Tony took a moment to gather his thoughts, looking away and feeling the silence build between them, tension growing sharp and staticky. He expected Steve to grow impatient, but when he looked back up, some minutes later, Steve was just staring at him, patiently.

That seemed to be what he needed, because some sort of twisty, squiggly tension started moving around his chest and throat and whole body, and he found the words starting to make their way up and out of him – for the first time.

“Do you know about the Borg?” Tony asked, surprised at how steady his voice was.

Steve blinked, but nodded, slowly, “They’re an incredibly dangerous cybernetic race that has tried to invade the Federation on multiple occasions in the past decade.”

“Not just invade,” Tony replied, “Assimilate. They assimilate entire worlds and their people, force them to join their Collective.”

Steve nodded again, expression growing more sombre, “Right.”

Tony glanced away again, then looked back at Steve’s face, feeling his chest buzzing with anxiety that was so sharp and hard it felt like it would just slice straight through him. “About five years ago, when I was chief engineer aboard the Resilient, we encountered the Borg. Not in one of their big invasions, we were on an exploratory mission in the Beta Quadrant, beyond Federation space, when we encountered a lone Borg diamond – one of their smaller scouting vessels. Our Captain, Obadiah Stane, told us that Starfleet had ordered us there to investigate this Borg vessel, on a highly classified mission. He beamed himself, and our newly transferred first officer, Justin Hammer, over to the diamond, with orders not to do anything for six hours.” Tony let out an incredibly shaky breath, staring down at the edge of the coffee table now. “But Pepper and Rhodey and I thought it was suspicious. Especially since the Borg vessel had appeared to shut down when they beamed over. So I broke into the encrypted orders … and discovered that they were a fabrication.”

Steve made a distressed sound in the back of his throat, and Tony glanced up at him, taking in his creased brow and the grim slope of his mouth. “What did you do?”

“I left Pepper and Rhodey in charge, with orders to contact Starfleet Command, and beamed myself over to find out what happened to Stane and Hammer,” Tony explained, starting to tremble, minutely, as the memory of the sickly yellow and green light and the humid air of the Borg vessel washed over him, as if he was instantly back there. “Turns out, Captain Stane was there to strip the vessel of valuable parts. Borg technology is incredibly dangerous to obtain, for obvious reasons, and most of what we’ve salvaged from their invasion attempts is under lock and key, being analysed within an inch of its life by Starfleet.”

“Wait, he put your entire ship at risk just so he could get these parts to _sell_ them?” Steve asked, incredulous and horrified.

Tony shrugged, “Honestly? He never had the chance to tell me his plans. Only that he was planning on framing Hammer – and then me, when I showed up – and claim _we’d_ been responsible for fabricating the orders, but had been sadly assimilated by the Borg before he realised what we’d done.”

Steve let out another disbelieving sound, “Wait, what?”

“I know. I still have no idea how he expected to get away with it,” Tony said, shaking his head. Then he looked off at the carpet beside them, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, but went on, knowing that if he stopped halfway he might never be able to finish. “I served with Stane for _four years_ on the Resilient. I trusted him with my life – right up until the moment I found out he’d fabricated orders and put us in danger. But even then … I was wary, but I still wasn’t expecting it when he attacked me. He punctured my lung, destroyed my heart,” he explained, voice eerily dispassionate, “But unbeknownst to him, my AI program had integrated with the Borg systems and had accidentally woken them up from the stasis he’d put them in – it became a sort of … hybrid, Borg-Computer, following my orders and programming, but … doing so using Borg protocols. They … assimilated him, to protect me.” He clenched his hands into the fabric of his pants, feeling the pressure against his thighs as if it was coming from very far away. “And then they assimilated me, so that they could repair the damage to my circulatory and pulmonary systems.”

“What?” Steve gasped out, voice breathy and faint.

A broken sort of laugh escaped from Tony’s throat, “I owe them my life. I would have died, without the nanoprobes keeping my systems functional. They gave them enough time to replace my heart, and patch up my lung. Only problem was, the Borg started to wake up properly.” He felt like he was explaining this all to Steve from a great distance, the memory of the Collective, of all the voices crying out, the overwhelming presence of the Hive itself as it forced him to join them, rushing up around him, as it had done in his dreams for so many years now. “My AI program lasted long enough to get me out of there, and to force the diamond to self-destruct, but by the time it did … I was part of it. The Borg Collective. I felt them all die, and the ship too, like we were being torn apart from the inside out.”

“My god, Tony,” Steve said, and then suddenly he was there, kneeling in front of Tony, in his line of vision.

Tony blinked, sucking in a lungful of air as he became aware of the room around them, once again. He met Steve’s gaze – horrified, concerned, kind – and couldn’t tear his own gaze away, no matter how much he wanted to hide. The words just kept coming out of him, like he’d pulled out the stopper on a bottle and it was all pouring out. “I left Starfleet – though they considered it a leave of absence – for three years, afterwards. Holed myself up in some shitty research station, didn’t do anything but work – designed new weapons, new ships, an EVA suit of armour – anything I could think of to help us the next time the Borg tried to invade. Only came back because of the war. I couldn’t … I _can’t_ handle it, you see. The memories. Curse of the Trill, it’s all as clear and as real to me as the day it happened. The counsellors said it would fade, with time, but they don’t understand that it physically _can’t_.” Tony looked away, then, down at his hands, digging into his legs. He closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears that were gathering beneath his eyelids. “It’ll never fade. Not for me, not for any of my future hosts. That’s why …” he swallowed, “Why it would be better if I was the last Stark. Knowing that I’ve resigned them to living with this trauma, it’s just- just too much, and I _can’t_ -“

Tony broke. Snapped, like a rubber band. One minute the words were forcing their way out of his lips, explanations tumbling free after so many years of being contained.

The next he was sobbing, his knees on the carpet, hands pressing into his face, feeling the tears pooling around his fingers as he gasped out wet, ragged breaths. Admitting the truth – _all_ of the truth – to someone, to _Steve_ , had been all the permission his body needed for the floodgates to open. Judgements and recriminations clawed into his mind, accusations about ruining Stark, destroying the chance for future hosts to share its wisdom, resigning it to a lifetime of endless horror playing on repeat. The assimilation tubules entering his neck, the remains of his biological heart pulled from his chest, the desperate pleas of a thousand voices crying out to him for help. It was all there, behind his eyelids, echoing in his ears.

And even worse was the constant, heavy reminder they’d left behind in his body, of what had been done to him. That horrible circle of light that he had tried so hard to stifle. But the weight never left, the pressure never eased, and he knew he could never, ever be free of it.

“Shhh Tony, shhh, it’s okay,” Steve was murmuring to him, making Tony suddenly aware that he’d been babbling this all into Steve’s neck, in broken nonsensical fragments, the other man’s arms wrapped around him as he held Tony to his chest.

“It’s not okay, Steve,” Tony choked out, between sobs, “It’ll _never_ be okay.”

Steve soothed his palm down Tony’s side, “Shhh, of course it will. It is okay and _you_ will be okay.”

Tony made a noise of disagreement, “I won’t!” he insisted.

“You already are,” Steve insisted right back, not unkindly, “I don’t think you realise how much progress you’ve made, and that’s only in the two years that I’ve known you.”

Tony frowned, at that, his sobs catching in his throat. “I … don’t think you understand.”

Steve pressed a kiss to his temple, and said very gently, “No, I don’t think _you_ do. Tony, you haven’t ruined Stark _or_ the lives of your future hosts. I’ve read up on your people, since learning you were Joined, and everything I read says that your people chose to join with the symbionts because you both wanted to experience a richer and more fulfilling life, right?”

“Right,” Tony agreed, “Which this is very much _not_.”

Steve tsked, “Of course it is,” he insisted, “Part of life – whether you’re an ordinary human or a Joined Trill – is trauma. Whether it’s the sting of heartbreak or the loss of a loved one – or something more horrific like your experience with the Borg. We all go through it. You can’t just choose not to experience it, even if you’re Joined – especially if you’re Joined! Your people chose to share their memories and experiences with the symbionts because they wanted to experience life – _all of it_. The dark and the light. The terrible and the _incredible_. You can’t have one without the other. So yes, you will be sharing a difficult, dark experience with your future hosts – but you have the opportunity to make sure that’s not all your future hosts receive from you. If we survive the coming battle, you can show them the experience of overcoming trauma – of finding the joy, the beauty, and the wonder in the universe. Which you’ve already started to do, even if you haven’t realised it yet.”

Tony gaped at him. The anger that had flared within him, when he thought Steve didn’t understand, had drained away as fast as it came. In its place was a tentative, tender _hope_. “I … I hadn’t thought of it like that,” Tony murmured.

Steve pressed another kiss to his temple. “You’ve been busy just keeping yourself together,” he replied, so kindly that Tony’s throat tightened and fresh tears pooled in his eyes. “And I know it’s all easier said than done. But I also know that it _is_ easier if you aren’t trying to do it alone. _You_ taught me that.”

Tony leaned back in his embrace to frown at him, “When? I don’t remember Howard teaching you anything like that …”

Steve shook his head, staring into his eyes and looking bemused. “Howard didn’t, _you_ did, Tony. I was a total mess when I arrived in this time – torn away from everything and everyone I knew. Having to adjust to almost a century of new technology, new politics, not to mention the war I found myself in the middle of! You’ve been a lifeline for me, Tony. I don’t think I could have done any of this without you.”

Tony’s frown deepened, “What are you talking about?” he asked, an incredulous laugh bubbling out of him, “I’ve barely been there for you at all!”

“No, Tony,” Steve insisted, shifting his grip to gently hold Tony’s upper arms on either side and leaning down to meet his gaze more firmly, “You’re the only person who was there for me. Sure, Fury offered me counsellors and the crew on the Patriot and the America tried to get to know me. But none of them understood what I was experiencing like you did. It was like I was an anomaly to them – something to be humoured, or moulded back into shape. You just treated me like a person.”

“But- but we- there were times I didn’t speak to you for weeks! Or months!” Tony blurted out, horrified with himself for not realising.

Steve shrugged, face still kind, without a trace of anger or judgement, “I realised that you had something else going on, that wasn’t about me, that you didn’t feel comfortable talking to me about. I’m not going to pretend it hasn’t been frustrating, at times, but that was … that wasn’t because I was frustrated with you for not supporting me, or anything like that.” His cheeks flushed pink, “That was because I missed you, whenever you’d pull away. And because I wanted to help you, in the same way you’d been helping me – just by being there for you, treating like you a person, not something that needed to be fixed.”

Tony just stared at him, heart pounding in his chest, but even now the doubts still crept in and he looked away, “But I do need to be fixed.”

Steve sighed, and smoothed his hands down Tony’s arms until he could grasp his hands, gently. “I understand why you’d feel that way. But you need to be healed, not fixed.”

“What’s the difference?” Tony asked, gaze drawn to their hands, clasped together in between them.

“You fix a machine because it’s broken and needs to function correctly. But people aren’t machines, Tony, and they don’t need to function in a particular way in order to be valued as a person. You heal a person because they deserve to be able to live without the constant reminder, or experience, of pain. But healing doesn’t mean erasing the pain as if it never existed. None of us can be restored to an earlier point – because to do that would be to erase who we are. Our experiences are what define us as people. But that doesn’t mean you have to live stuck in the past, or in that traumatic experience. That’s where the healing comes in. By helping you leave that moment in the past, and in your memories where it belongs, you can finally start to move forward.”

Tony blinked at Steve, his gaze drawn up to his face as Steve effortlessly explained himself, his expression earnest. “Did you get a counselling degree in your spare time?” he asked, unable to hold back the smile that twitched at his lips.

Steve laughed, shaking his head, “Hardly. I just read some of the texts that SHIELD’s counsellors suggested. I really enjoyed the work of Commander Troi – she’s the chief counsellor aboard the Enterprise and she really knows her stuff. I’ve found her work on trauma particularly helpful – it helped me reframe the way I was thinking about being brought forward by the temporal rift. I know it’s not a trauma of the same magnitude as yours, but it’s still taken me time to adjust and do some healing of my own.”

“Of course,” Tony agreed, squeezing Steve’s hands, and delighting in the way Steve looked up at him and smiled. Then Tony looked away again, “I, uh, guess I didn’t really give the counsellors a chance, after my, uh, trauma,” he admitted.

Steve squeezed his hands back, “Maybe you weren’t ready yet – or you just didn’t find the right person. Commander Troi said feeling safe with your counsellor is essential.”

Tony felt something ease in him at that, like another piece of blame had been plucked off. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. I guess not being able to talk about what happened at all was another pretty big obstacle in the way to healing,” he added, meeting Steve’s gaze again with a wry smile.

Steve’s expression grew slightly sombre, “I’m honoured that you trust me enough to share it, because I know how difficult it must have been to face. And I’m so, so sorry for what you’ve been through, Tony. I hope you know I’d never judge you for it – especially for the way you’ve handled the emotions it brought up in you. You coped with it as best as you could, and I understand that.”

Tony swallowed heavily, at that, not even trying to stop the tears that welled up. “Thanks, Steve,” he choked out, leaning back in to Steve’s chest, adding more dampness to the wet patch on his shoulder.

Steve wrapped his arms around Tony and just held him, murmuring soothing noises into his hair and pressing gentle kisses onto the top of his head.

Tony felt wrung out and exhausted, when the tears finally eased, his jaw cracking around a yawn.

“Do you want to come to bed? You look like you’re exhausted,” Steve asked, stroking his hand along Tony’s shoulder.

Tony’s throat tightened at the offer, at the thought of being so vulnerable, and for an irrational second he was going to refuse, but then he nodded, giving in. He was tired of trying to hold himself together alone.

“Come on then,” Steve said, gently helping Tony to his feet. “Do you want to take off your uniform?” he asked, “You don’t have to, if you’re not comfortable.”

Tony shook his head and reached for the fastener on his jacket, “I’m sick of hiding it,” he admitted, letting Steve help him take his jacket off when his fingers fumbled with it. “Besides, you’ve already seen it, and you’re still here.”

Steve made a distressed noise in the back of his throat, hand pausing as he reached for the fastener of the shirt, “Of course I’m still here Tony. I understand that it’s a … a reminder, of what the Borg did to you. But it’s also part of you – and you said yourself earlier, you wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t keeping you that way. So as much as I’m sorry you have to live with something that makes you so uncomfortable, I’m glad it’s there.”

Tony swallowed again, his hand reaching up to grasp Steve’s, their fingers tangling together as Steve squeezed. Tony placed his hand back on the fastener, letting Steve gently, carefully undo the shirt and tug it off his arms.

Steve looked down at the sickly light, his eyes tracing over the metal that surrounded it – and he didn’t look horrified. Tony’s stomach swooped. “You can touch it, if you want,” he offered, as surprised as Steve by the words.

“I thought that made you uncomfortable?” Steve asked, forehead creasing as he raised his eyes to meet Tony’s.

Tony shrugged one shoulder, “Talking about it at all made me uncomfortable, but here we are.” He looked down at it himself, lifting his hand and gently tapping against the circular light with one finger. “Besides, I’m hardly going to get used to it if I keep avoiding it, right?”

“That doesn’t mean you have to rush into everything in one night,” Steve pointed out, though he still stepped closer, his hand coming up to rest on Tony’s waist, the other hovering between them.

Tony looked up at Steve, who was watching Tony with so much kindness in his eyes it made his heart ache, and then he looked back down – Steve’s gaze moving with him as he reached for Steve’s hand and carefully guided it to press against the light, over his mechanical heart.

Neither of them breathed, for a minute, and then Tony let out a shuddering breath, yet more tears choking him as he leaned in to Steve again – who just moved his hand away from his chest to hold his back, not pressing their chests together but letting Tony’s head rest against his shoulder once more.

Steve’s hand stroked up his neck to cradle the back of his head and Tony shifted his arms so he could hold onto Steve’s waist, fingers digging into the soft material of his robe.

“Come on,” Steve murmured, rubbing circles into the back of Tony’s head with his thumb, then slowly pulling away so that he could guide Tony the rest of the way to his bed. He helped Tony lie down, soothing his hands down Tony’s arms as he trembled, though whether from the outpouring of emotion or exhaustion, he couldn’t tell. Then he carefully took off Tony’s boots and socks and pants, leaving him in his underwear. “Here,” he said, as he pulled the blanket up over Tony.

Tony thought he might go back to his armchair, finish reading whatever pre-battle information he’d been studying, so he blinked in surprise as Steve tugged off his blue robe and slid into the bed beside him, wearing only his Starfleet issue underwear.

“Is this okay?” Steve asked.

Tony twisted himself around so that he was facing Steve, rather than lying with his back to him, his arms curled in the space between them, “I thought you weren’t tired? You don’t have to stay.”

Steve just continued to look at him, with so much kindness and compassion in his face that Tony felt a flutter of panic in his chest. “Would you like me to stay?” he asked.

Tony bit his lip, glancing away, eyes tracing down the smooth line of Steve’s body beneath the blanket, “You don’t have to,” he repeated.

Steve reached out one of his hands and found Tony’s hands beneath the blanket, stroked gently along his wrists and knuckles, “But would you like me to?”

“I-“ Tony choked on the words. He pulled his hands back, every so slightly, away from Steve’s. “I … don’t deserve this,” he finally whispered. He still couldn’t look Steve in the eye, felt the sick twist of shame and embarrassment in his gut.

“Don’t deserve what?” Steve asked, voice soft but firm, “To have someone care about you? To have someone _take care_ of you?”

Tony shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut against the fresh onslaught of tears. “Yes,” he choked out, throat thick, “I don’t understand why you’re still here. All I’ve done is run away from you, avoided you, made you miserable!”

“Tony,” Steve said, reaching out for him again, holding onto his hand more firmly and squeezing it gently. “I thought it was obvious why I’m still here,” he murmured.

Tony opened his eyes again, blinking through the tears to stare at Steve, who was staring back, head resting on his pillow, blush staining his cheeks. “Why?” Tony asked, voice watery.

Steve sighed, but it was fond, his lips quirking up, “Because I love you?”

Tony’s eyes widened, his face slackening in shock, “You what?”

Steve stroked his thumb along Tony’s wrist bone, so gently. “I love you Tony. I think I’ve been in love with you since that day in the Spire, when you told that story about the time you lost the Resilient gambling with a Ferengi,” he admitted, chuckling a little at the memory. Then his face grew serious again, “I understand if you don’t – or can’t – feel the same way. Truly. You have enough to deal with without feeling pressure to return my feelings. But you have to know that, regardless of your feelings, I love you – and I’ll do anything in my power to make you happy. If that means you running away, or needing space, or not wanting to talk to me, that’s fine. Just as long as you know that, when you need to be with someone who cares about you again, or if you need someone to take care of you, that I’m here. And I’ll do it gladly.”

Tony was speechless, his hearts going at warp ten as he gaped at Steve.

Then he pushed himself forward, almost slamming his nose into Steve’s as he leaned in to capture his lips in a desperate kiss. Steve tilted his nose out of the way just in time, pressing his own lips eagerly to Tony’s, one of his hands coming up to hold Tony’s jaw.

Tony pulled away, his hearts still racing and his expression wild – with yet more unshed tears gathering in the corners of his eyes. “I love you too,” he admitted, then scrunched his face up, “I’ve tried so, so hard not to – because, fuck, Steve, I _really_ don’t deserve you. But I can’t-“ he choked, tears catching in his throat, “I can’t keep myself away.”

Steve let out a ragged breath, still cradling Tony’s jaw, and his thumb reached up to wipe away the tears that he could reach. “You don’t have to keep yourself away, Tony. It’s not a matter of _deserving_ anything. I want to be with you – not only to take care of you, but to spend time with you, to stay up all night talking, to ride rollercoasters on the holodeck, visit Aspida on our next shore leave and see all the sights everyone keeps telling me I’m missing out on. I want _everything_ – everything you’re willing to give me.”

A shuddering breath rushed out of Tony. “I want that too,” he whispered, overwhelmed by the warm swell of hope that was bursting in his chest, chasing away the complex web of shame, guilt and despair that had been weighing him down even more than the Borg device embedded in his chest.

Steve smiled at him, his whole face lighting up, as if he could tell that something had shifted in Tony. He leaned in, pressing another kiss to Tony’s lips, then stroked his cheek before pulling back to adjust the blankets over them. “Well then, seems like we both have a pretty strong reason to survive this battle. So you’d better make sure you’re well rested, alright?”

Tony reached across the distance between them to tangle their hands together. “Alright,” he agreed, already feeling the overwhelming tug of sleep crashing upon him, feeling safe for the first time since the Borg.

~

They woke to the insistent chiming of JARVIS’s alarm tone, Tony feeling hollowed out, from the night’s revelations and all the spaces inside him that had been cracked open. But just seeing Steve beside him, blinking awake, his hair ruffled on one side and flattened on the other where it had lain against the pillow, made him feel a crackle of energy – and hope – that made him more determined than ever, in the face of the coming battle.

“Thanks J,” Tony called out, as he and Steve slipped out from under the covers and made their way to the fresher.

There was nothing erotic about the sonic shower they took together, pre-battle adrenaline already racing through their systems, their movements perfunctory as they quickly washed, tidying their hair and brushing their teeth before stepping back out into Steve’s quarters. They refreshed their uniforms and dressed quickly, replicating a simple protein bar each to fuel them, their stomachs churning with pre-battle nerves.

They paused, on the threshold of Steve’s quarters, facing each other with such fierce, grim determination before they reached out at the same time, their mouths meeting in a searing kiss as they tried to say with their lips and teeth and tongues what they couldn’t express in words.

“You better not die,” Tony told Steve, firmly, after they pulled back, still holding onto each other’s arms as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“The same goes for you – _both_ of you,” Steve replied, with a significant look.

Tony’s face softened at the reminder of their conversation, so long ago, and he nodded. “I’ll see you after.”

Steve nodded back, “Let’s go and win this damn war,” he whispered, pressing another fierce kiss to Tony’s lips and then striding out the door.

Tony took a deep breath, pressing a hand against his abdominal pouch to feel Stark, reminding himself of everything he had to live for – everything he had to look forward to. “Let’s go.”


	10. IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Included for reference, this picture of Tony looking at what the Borg did to him for the first time (circa 2369)

 

“They’re standing down!” Pepper called out, her voice crackling over the comm line that they’d kept open between the bridge and engineering. The lack of phaser fire or torpedo blasts striking their half of the Avenger that followed in the wake of her pronouncement seemed to verify her statement.

A moment later, Talos verbally confirmed it, “We have just received confirmation. The Dominion has surrendered. It’s over.”

Tony and his engineers looked at each other in disbelief, not quite believing that it was finally, actually over, even as the Captain’s voice came over the comm to announce the news to the entire crew. Tony looked around at his people – all of them sweaty and dirty, most of them singed or bruised or bloody – and then at the state of engineering itself, a smoky haze filling the air with the scent of burnt polymers, char marks marring what had been brand new consoles, panels torn open with their innards hastily pulled out for frantic repairs in the heat of battle.

The stillness that surrounded them, now that the battle was over, felt at odds with the adrenaline that still coursed through his system, and Tony knew from experience that it would be many hours before calmness had even a chance of returning.

“Alright people,” he called out, clapping his hands for emphasis, “Let’s get started on these repairs. Cadet, get me Commander Wilson, we need to co-ordinate the re-integration procedure.” Peter nodded, already turning to the comms console. A moment later Sam’s voice came over the speakers – and then Tony was absorbed, organising the repair work and delegating it to his team while he and Sam simultaneously co-ordinated the process that would bring the Avenger back together again.

Once the two halves were a whole ship once more, Tony really threw himself into the repair work, knowing the Captain would want them ready to fly back to the Triskelion as soon as possible so they could do the rest of the intensive repair work with a proper team (and sit through no doubt endless debriefings and evaluations of the Avenger prototype’s performance).

He completely lost track of time, absorbed in his work – so it was something of a shock when, chest deep in a wall console, he heard his engineers greeting the Captain directly.

“Commander Stark,” Peter called, from where he was sitting by Tony’s legs, passing him tools as Tony repaired the plasma manifold so they could actually use the warp engines again.

“Be out in a minute,” Tony called back, with only one relay left to repair he might as well get it done. Shoving the phase compensator between his teeth, he ran the hyper spanner over the damaged relay until he was satisfied. Then he grabbed his handful of tools and wriggled himself out. “Should be ready for warp within the next half hour, though we won’t be able to go faster than-“ he was explaining, before he twisted himself around to sit up and found that he wasn’t talking to Carol, but Steve, who looked down at him in bemusement. “Oh, Steve!” Tony blurted out, then immediately blushed – internally cursing himself as Peter’s eyes widened. This was going to be the talk of the Triskelion as soon as they arrived (and the talk of the Avenger within an hour, guaranteed).

But Steve’s bemused grin just widened, “Tony,” he replied, holding out a hand to help pull Tony up. He hadn’t fared much better than Tony, in the battle, his uniform rumpled, his face smudged with dirt and a small gash across his cheek, but he looked otherwise uninjured, thank the First. “I was on my way off duty when I heard you were still hard at work,” he said, as Tony dusted his hands off. “Surely your engineers can handle it from here? You need to eat – and sleep.”

Tony shook his head, “I don’t rest until all of us can rest,” he explained. It was the strongest trait that Stark passed on to each of their hosts.

“I’m sure we can handle things, Commander,” Peter offered, looking between him and Steve eagerly.

Tony shook his head, “Once we get the warp engine up and running, then we can take a break,” he insisted. He turned to Steve, expecting an argument – and his eyes went wide when he found Steve taking off his uniform jacket, draping it over the back of a chair and rolling up his uniform shirt sleeves.

“What can I do?” he asked, and Tony’s heart fluttered in his chest.

Having an extra pair of hands shaved ten minutes off his estimate, so that it wasn’t even half an hour before he was reporting the return of their warp drive to Captain Danvers – who praised his hard work and told him to get some rest, but not before chastising him for still being on duty.

Steve just bit his lip, when he overheard that, raising his eyebrows in an ‘I told you so’ expression that made Tony roll his eyes.

“Alright, take a break Cadet. Riri, you’re in charge – call me if anything is about to explode, otherwise I’ll be back in the morning,” Tony ordered, on his way out.

Now that he didn’t have anything productive to do, some of the tiredness he’d been ignoring began to crash down over him, though he still had so much adrenaline thrumming through his system he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to sleep. But he was still in enough of a tired state that he didn’t actually notice where Steve was leading him until he found himself standing in Steve’s quarters, blinking in surprise.

“I thought we were getting something to eat?” he asked, raising his eyebrow at Steve, who shrugged.

“My replicator works just as well as the mess hall’s,” Steve pointed out, gesturing over to it, and the small dining area on the opposite side of the room from the sitting area.

Tony followed him over to it. “Good, ‘cause I really feel like shawarma, have you tried it? It’s a Terran Middle Eastern dish,” he explained, ordering a huge plate and a glass of papalla juice to go along with it. Steve replicated his meal and the two of them sat mostly in companionable silence as they ate, trading bites of food, and starting to come down from the adrenaline of the battle.

Steve sighed in appreciation when he’d finished, leaning back in his chair and letting his head tip back, stretching his neck muscles and exposing the long line of his throat. Tony swallowed, feeling an entirely different sort of tension crackle under the surface of his skin, as the remaining adrenaline found a new purpose.

Steve lifted his head again and met Tony’s gaze, his expression almost instantly becoming intense as they stared at each other.

“We should probably get this dirt off,” Tony said, gaze not leaving Steve’s, who nodded and then wet his lips with his tongue.

“Good idea,” Steve agreed. He continued to stare, for a moment, before finally getting to his feet.

Tony did the same, both of them quickly shucking their uniforms and leaving them in a pile on the floor near the dining table before making their way to Steve’s sonic shower. The tension between them turned electric, at the proximity, as they both stepped inside and Tony activated it, the dirt and sweat and blood washing away. Tony reached up to gently wipe away the blood around the gash on Steve’s cheek – startled to find nothing underneath it. “I’m sure there was a gash here when you stepped into engineering.”

Steve nodded, “There was. Minor injuries like that heal within a couple of hours.”

“Incredible,” Tony said, staring up at him and feeling the air itself sizzle with tension as Steve stepped closer, lifting his hand to help wipe away some of the dirt that covered Tony’s face.

His palm cradled Tony’s cheek, as his thumb swiped at a spot on the bridge of Tony’s nose – but then it trailed down to Tony’s lips, which parted immediately.

Steve stared down at his mouth as he ran his thumb along Tony’s bottom lip. Tony exhaled at the contact, breath gusting over Steve’s skin, his entire body thrumming with anticipation now, and Steve let out a content sigh as he replaced his thumb with his lips. Their kiss started slow, tasting each other and the vestiges of their dinner, along with the lingering taste of smoke from the battle.

But then Tony pressed closer to Steve, moving his hands from Steve’s jaw down over his clavicle, the planes of his chest and the hardness of his abs before grasping onto his hips and pulling the other man flush up against him, their cocks both swelling to full hardness at the contact.

Steve gasped, “Tony,” before his kisses turned frantic, one of his arms going around Tony’s back to press them together from shoulder to hip. The device in Tony’s chest bumped up against Steve and he froze, “Sorry, sorry,” he gasped out, pulling back from Tony – who tightened his grip on Steve’s hips.

“No, no, it’s okay, I want to – by the First, I just want to be inside you, or for you to be inside me, I don’t care, just- I need-“

“Yes,” Steve groaned in response, eagerly stepping forward and crowding Tony up against the wall of the shower.

Tony groaned as his back hit the wall. Had it really been an entire year, since the first time they’d had sex like this? The circumstances hadn’t been all that different, but so much had changed. He was grateful beyond words that he had the chance to have this again, without all the baggage that had been weighing him down the first time. He was going to try to say as much, but when he looked up at Steve, staring down at him with not only lust and arousal in his eyes but so much passion and love, well, maybe he didn’t have to.

“Do you want me to-“ Steve began.

“-take me against this wall? Absolutely,” Tony replied, feeling his cock twitch and his hole already growing wet in anticipation.

Steve groaned again, leaning in to press another fierce kiss to Tony’s lips before he reached down and hoisted him up effortlessly. Tony let out a shameless moan, ridiculously turned on by Steve’s enhanced strength. He wrapped his legs around Steve’s waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs as Steve leaned in and devoured his mouth, his tongue plunging in and out as his hands squeezed Tony’s thighs.

Tony couldn’t stop making noises, all of his nerve endings singing. Every motion – whether it was the press of Steve’s tongue or his fingers digging into Tony’s skin or the way his hips were already rocking up into Tony – pulled a different sound from his throat.

“Fuck, Tony,” Steve gasped out, finally pulling away and letting Tony heave oxygen back into his lungs.

“Steve,” Tony whined back at him, when he’d caught his breath. He arched back, shoulders pressing into the cold metal wall behind him, as he pushed his ass down into Steve’s hands. “Need you, please.”

Steve let out an inarticulate sound, shifting his grip so that he was holding Tony up one handed (his cock jumped at the display of such raw strength) and squeezing one of Tony’s ass cheeks with the other hand before he pushed a finger through the ring of muscle at the entrance and up inside Tony.

Tony panted raggedly at the motion, feeling the muscles clenching around Steve’s finger even as he began to pump it in and out.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Steve rasped, leaning forward so that their mouths were close but not going as far as kissing him. Which was for the best, because Tony’s mouth was wide open, pulling oxygen in desperately as his hips rocked into the rapid motion of Steve’s finger.

“Please,” Tony gasped, squeezing his eyes shut – but opening them again as Steve chuckled, lowly. His pupils were blown wide, a thin sliver of blue left visible, and he smirked down at Tony even as he withdrew his finger – and then pressed back in with a second one.

“Maybe I want to take my time, this time,” Steve teased, even as he set an even faster pace with his fingers.

“Fuck,” Tony whined, tossing his head back and ignoring the sting of metal against the back of his skull.

Steve laughed again, a warm, rich sound that Tony wanted to hear every day. “Alright, maybe we’ll take our time next time,” he conceded, pulling his fingers back out.

“Thank the First,” Tony groaned, lifting his head back up to look at Steve – just in time to see him push the fingers that had just been inside Tony into his own mouth, the tip of his tongue visible as he lapped at the slick coating them and moaned.

A high pitched whine escaped from Tony’s throat and he felt his hole clench and cock start to leak precome, at the sight.

The teasing smirk had left Steve’s face, as he pulled his fingers back out, replaced by such an intense look that Tony shivered. He gripped Steve’s shoulders more tightly, pressing with his heels to urge Steve closer – and Steve obliged, hoisting Tony up slightly higher, still with only one broad hand curved around his ass and the back of his thighs. Then he used his other hand to guide his cock inside Tony.

They both groaned as Steve pushed straight into him and Tony let gravity sink him down onto Steve’s cock. Steve adjusted his grip so his broad, long-fingered hands were back on either side of Tony, holding his ass firmly so that Steve could pull back out and push in smoothly.

“Unngh, Steve,” Tony groaned, as he pressed down on the tops of Steve’s sturdy shoulders so that he could lift himself up enough to plunge back down, meeting Steve’s thrusts, their bodies falling back into that effortless rhythm just like the first time, both of them chasing their pleasure as they moved together.

Their gasped breaths and ragged moans filled the shower cubicle, echoing and bouncing off the metal along with the filthy sound of skin wetly slapping against skin.

It seemed like no time at all before Steve sped up, movements already frantic, mouth open and eyes closed, desperate as he drove into Tony over and over. “Tony, oh, Tony,” Steve panted, his grip on Tony turning bruising.

“Yesss,” Tony hissed, “Come on Steve.”

With a desperate cry Steve came, triggering Tony’s body so that his internal muscles rippled around Steve’s cock, waves of pleasure flooding through him with the motion. “Ohhh,” Tony groaned, pressing his shoulders back into the wall behind him so that he could drop one of his hands from Steve’s shoulder and wrap it around his cock.

He tugged frantically at it, his muscles still squeezing Steve’s cock, so that the sparks of pleasure that shot down his spine branched forward and backward as he eagerly chased his release.

Between the rippling aftershocks caused by Steve’s release and the grip of his own fingers pumping his cock, slippery with precome, it was no time at all before Tony’s orgasm was spurting out of him, splattering across Steve’s chest and stomach.

This, of course, triggered an even stronger clenching from his internal muscles around Steve’s cock, which was still inside him. “Ohhh!” Steve cried out, at the intense sensations on his now sensitive cock, his grip on Tony slipping minutely as he threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut, his hips still rocking into Tony’s body for long minutes until the last aftershocks tremored out.

Tony blinked against the dazzling white spots that danced across his vision, the only sounds now their panting as they both tried to catch their breath, chests heaving, and Steve’s hands trembling minutely.

“You can put me down,” Tony gasped out, worried that – enhanced strength or not, an overwhelmed Steve might drop him.

Steve blinked his eyes open and gently let his cock slide free, both of them gasping at the sensation, before he carefully put Tony’s feet back on the ground. He immediately had to steady Tony, whose limbs felt like gelatine, with a hand on his arm.

They stood like that, just breathing, gently pressed together, the sweat cooling on their skin, for long minutes.

Then Steve tapped the panel to reactivate the sonic shower, washing the sweat and come from their skin. He softly ran his hands up and down Tony’s arms, as Tony tried to get his wobbly limbs to co-operate. When he finally managed to push himself off the wall, Steve paused, face tilted away from Tony – whose brow creased, anxiety starting to buzz in his chest.

Just when he was about to ask if something was wrong, Steve spoke, in a small voice that Tony had never heard him use before, “Please don’t leave, Tony.”

Tony’s eyes widened and he felt as if all the breath had been knocked out of him all over again. He immediately reached up and grasped Steve’s arms, sliding his palms down them until he could grab both of Steve’s hands in his. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said, leaning in and tilting his head slightly so he could catch Steve’s eyes. He was startled to see them shining with the barest hint of tears, when Steve tilted his face back towards him. “I promise, Steve. No more running away. You’re stuck with me now.”

Steve’s lips curled up at the corners, “You mean it?”

Tony nodded, “I do. Though you’re probably going to regret that really soon,” he pointed out.

Steve’s brow pinched and he shook his head, “Never. I love you Tony.”

Tony felt a smile bloom across his face, “I love you too, Steve.” He squeezed Steve’s hands. Then he chuckled, “Besides, you didn’t have to worry – I don’t think I’m going anywhere on these legs, you’ve turned them into noodles.”

Steve laughed, the warm happy one that made Tony’s toes curl, and leaned in to press a kiss to Tony’s lips. “Well, if it’s all my fault, then I suppose that means I’m responsible for helping you get around,” he said, reaching down and hoisting Tony up into his arms.

Tony squeaked, hooking an arm around Steve’s neck to steady himself, as he was carried out of the fresher back out into Steve’s quarters – and straight over to Steve’s bed. Steve dropped him down into the centre of it, staring down at him with a satisfied smirk, his gaze tracing up Tony’s body from his toes to his face.

Tony lounged back, just enough strength in his limbs to pose enticingly, running a hand through his hair and leaning his head back to expose the long lines of his throat and the spots on either side of it. He was giddy – overcome with joy and relief both, in a way he hadn’t been since before the Borg. “Like what you see?” he teased, quirking an eyebrow and smirking back.

Steve ran his tongue along his bottom lip before biting into it, his gaze already turning heated again. “I think it should be obvious by now that I do, even to you Stark.”

Tony’s eyebrows rose, “And what is that supposed to mean?” he squawked, indignant.

Steve’s smirk widened and he appeared to be biting back laughter as he kneeled on the bed, shuffling over to Tony and looking down at him. “I’ve just heard from some of your friends that you can be a bit … oblivious, when it comes to the way other people feel about you,” Steve said.

“I noticed how _you_ felt, didn’t I?” Tony countered, pushing himself up on his elbows so that he was closer to Steve’s face.

Steve’s expression turned dubious, and Tony pouted. Steve laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Tony’s pouted lips, little vibrations jolting through from the chuckles that still tremored through him. “The important thing is, you figured it out eventually,” Steve teased, peppering Tony’s lips with chaste kisses as he continued to pout.

But even with his penchant from dramatics, Tony couldn’t maintain his pouting when Steve tilted his head and mouthed at his favourite spot on the hinge of Tony’s jaw. “You really like that spot, don’t you?” Tony teased, breath hitching as Steve sucked on it.

Steve hummed, “I do – but I also feel like it hasn’t really been an equal contest, I mean, I haven’t given any of your other spots a chance.” He kissed the spot above his favourite, on the edge of Tony’s hairline, as if to demonstrate.

“Well, that’s just not very fair of you now, is it?” Tony pointed out, tilting his head to the side to give Steve better access.

Steve hummed again, “Mmm, I’d better do a thorough investigation of all of them.” And he proceeded to do just that, pressing feather light kisses over each of the spots up the side of Tony’s face to his temple, then running his tongue back down and nibbling at Tony’s jawbone. Tony moaned as Steve’s tongue traced a wet path along the spots down the side of his neck. He stopped to nip sharply at Tony’s collarbone then continued peppering kisses down the path of spots leading down Tony’s chest.

Tony stiffened up slightly, when Steve reached the edge of his scar tissue and paused, breath ghosting over Tony’s skin as he apparently considered what to do. “It’s okay,” Tony reassured him, “You can … you can kiss it, if you want – or not, that’s fine too.”

Steve looked up at him, eyes startling blue in the muted light. “It’s not too sensitive?” he asked, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Tony shook his head, it _was_ sensitive, but also rather numb, a lot of the nerve endings damaged or destroyed by the Borg metal. Steve studied his face for another moment, then leaned back down and pressed the lightest kiss yet on a spot that had been torn in two by a line of scar tissue. Tony felt his throat squeeze at the action – not because it hurt, but because of the act itself. He’d barely been able to look at the damaged skin for years, only ever touched it enough to keep it clean. For Steve to treat it with such tenderness was … overwhelming.

He squeezed his eyes shut, head tilted back, as Steve pressed the barest kisses to all that remained of his spots on his chest. Some tingled, while others barely registered any sensation at all, but every single press of Steve’s lips made something loosen in Tony’s chest that had nothing to do with the physical reality of his body.

Steve paused again, right when Tony felt him reach the bottom edge of the scar tissue, and he opened his eyes to move his head up and look and see what Steve was waiting for – but gasped aloud when Steve pressed a kiss directly over a bare section of metal.

“Sorry,” Steve apologised, pulling back and looking stricken when Tony quickly lifted his head up the rest of the way, “Did that hurt?”

Tony shook his head, it didn’t register all of the sensations that skin did, but he still felt pressure and temperature (the only things the Borg needed their drones to feel, he supposed). Still, he gaped, looking down at the stretch of horrible dark green metal that Steve had kissed and back up at Steve. “No, but- why?”

Steve gently pressed his fingertips over the spot he’d kissed. “I told you last night. I love you, and this is part of you – so it deserves the same treatment I give the rest of you.”

Tony had to blink back tears, his heart squeezing painfully, “Oh.”

Steve looked back up at him and his face softened – he stretched up to press a gentle kiss to Tony’s lips. Then he sat back again and brushed his fingers gently along the smooth expanse of metal, tracing the line of one of the silvery ribs and skirting the scar tissue around the edges before bringing his hand back down to spread, fingers wide, over the swirling circle of light in the middle.

One of the tears rolled free down Tony’s cheek when Steve leaned down and pressed a kiss directly to the centre of the light.

Tony reached up and brushed it away and Steve looked up at him, expression kind. He trailed his fingers down from the light, across the metal, to Tony’s abdomen, palm spreading over Tony’s abdominal pouch. “This is where Stark is, right?” Steve asked, looking down at where his hand was – not with disgust, like that long distant first meeting, but with wonder and love.

“That’s right,” Tony said, knowing that Steve wouldn’t be able to feel much beyond the vague round shape of his symbiont, nestled in its pouch among his other organs.

That didn’t stop Steve from stroking the skin fondly, then leaning down to press a firm kiss to it.

With that done, Steve returned to his previous mission, hands gently stroking along Tony’s sides as he pressed chaste kisses on each and every spot down Tony’s right side. He stopped when he reached Tony’s hip, humming and then sucking at a spot right on the junction of Tony’s hip. “I think I’ve found another contender for favourite spot,” Steve mused.

Tony chuckled, “You can’t come to a conclusion when you’ve only covered a quarter of them – or is this ongoing research?”

“Oh it’s definitely ongoing research,” Steve immediately replied, pressing more kisses along the spots that splayed across Tony’s hip and then continuing down his thigh, “Could go on for – oh, who knows, years? Decades?”

Tony swallowed, unable to stop the way his lips twisted into a giddy smile at that. “Wow, that’s some _extremely_ thorough research,” he teased.

“I do my best,” Steve agreed, apparently finding another spot he liked halfway down Tony’s thigh and swirling his tongue around it.

Despite how spent he’d felt when Steve had begun his ministrations, Tony was already starting to feel a pleasant buzz beneath his skin as Steve continued making his way down each and every spot that trailed down the side of Tony’s right leg. By the time Steve had made his way up Tony’s left leg to his hip, Tony’s cock was already half hard. Steve gave it a considering look then looked up at Tony, who’d propped himself up on his elbows to watch Steve as he practically worshipped Tony’s skin under the guise of inspecting his spots.

“I hope you’ve been counting them, as part of your research,” Tony teased.

Steve’s eyes widened in mock horror, “Oh no. I’m going to have to start over.”

They both laughed, Tony’s nose crinkling up as he let himself flop back onto the bed. “Nope, gotta finish what you started. You’ll have to count them another time.”

Steve sighed, “If you insist.” His kisses sped up, now, as he made his way back up Tony’s left side. This time when he reached Tony’s chest, Tony didn’t tense up, just closed his eyes and let himself feel the complex tangle of emotions as Steve carefully pressed his lips against every spot, or fragment of a spot, and then again to the expanse of metal where his skin used to be.

By the time Steve kissed his way up the left side of Tony’s neck, to his face, Tony was well and truly wound up, the tension under his skin less hurried than it had been in the shower, but no less of an ache.

He moaned softly as Steve traced his tongue along the line of spots that trailed up the side of his face, then pressed his lips to the last section of spots on his left temple.

“Well?” Tony asked, slightly breathless, “What’s the verdict? Do we have a new winner?”

“Hmmm, you know, I’m still pretty attached to this one,” Steve murmured, tracing his thumb over the one on the hinge of his jaw and looking down into Tony’s eyes. “But I don’t feel like I can draw any conclusions based on one analysis alone.”

“Very sound, scientific method,” Tony agreed, straining up for Steve’s lips. He reached up and tangled his hand in Steve’s hair, scratching at the short hairs on the back of Steve’s neck as their mouths met, tongues lazily curling against each other. Steve let his hips drop down, their legs pressing against each other, and Tony pressed his other hand along the line of Steve’s spine, feeling the warm, smooth muscles under his palm.

Their kisses grew deeper, Steve’s tongue delving in and applying the same thoroughness to his exploration of Tony’s mouth as he’d applied to his spots. Tony felt the tension building, his cock swollen to full hardness now. He pressed his hips up, cock dragging against the firm muscles of Steve’s stomach, and groaned as he felt Steve’s cock twitch against his thigh.

Steve moaned, hands tightening around Tony’s face before he leaned back, breath starting to come a bit faster now, as he looked down at Tony. “Any preferences for where I apply my scientific method next?” he asked, voice deepened from his arousal.

Tony’s breath hitched. “I’ve been enjoying your explorations so far, so I’ll leave the decision in your capable hands, _Captain_ ,” he replied.

Steve hummed, eyes going darker, “Well, in the spirit of exploration,” he murmured. He shuffled down Tony’s body, pressing a single, quick kiss to his abdominal pouch again, before stopping at the spot on Tony’s hip he’d found earlier to swirl his tongue around it, then sitting back up to consider.

“Roll over onto your back?” he asked, absently running his tongue across his bottom lip. Tony swallowed heavily, a shiver of anticipation running through him, and let Steve help him turn over so that he was lying on his front.

Steve’s hands soothed down the spots on his thighs and then he grasped them and gently guided them to fall open more. Tony propped himself up on his elbows to look over his shoulder at Steve, who was sprawled out on the bed below him, his long legs dangling off the edge, and positioning himself between Tony’s thighs. “Is this okay?” Steve checked, looking up the length of Tony’s body to meet his gaze.

Tony nodded, “Absolutely.”

Steve grinned at him, before his expression grew focused and his tongue darted out to wet his lips again. Tony swallowed again, watching as Steve leaned in, his hands parting Tony’s ass cheeks so that he could press the tip of his tongue against Tony’s entrance.

Tony moaned, even at that light touch, and let his head drop back down, eyes squeezing shut so that he could focus on the sensations. Steve’s tongue was hesitant at first, just lapping gently at the tight pucker of muscle, tasting, feeling out how different Trill anatomy was from Human (as Tony had told him that first time, not very, but they weren’t completely the same by any stretch of the imagination). Each broad stroke of the flat of Steve’s tongue across his rim made Tony gasp out, the muscle fluttering with the sensation, wetness starting to leak out.

Steve tried pointing his tongue and pressing it more firmly against the rim and let out a shocked moan when the ring of muscle parted around it, letting out a flood of slick. He groaned raggedly into Tony’s skin, fingers squeezing around Tony’s ass as he lapped at the wetness. “Fuck, Steve,” Tony gasped out, hips pushing against Steve’s firm grip as he ground up into Steve’s mouth.

“Tony,” Steve groaned in response, before he pressed his tongue more firmly against Tony’s rim, letting the wave of slick rush out as the muscle clamped around his tongue. He pressed against it, experimentally, and Tony felt it gently ripple around the intrusion, welcoming it. Steve moaned at the sensation, the vibrations making Tony whine in the back of his throat.

Steve began thrusting his tongue in and out, the tight ring of muscle loosening as the wetness spread. Tony couldn’t help the way his hips tried to rock into Steve’s mouth, his feet trying to find leverage on the bed.

Steve adjusted his grip, pressing Tony’s legs down into the mattress so that he could get even closer, press his tongue even further inside, swirling around and around his rim until Tony was panting, hands clutching at fistfuls of Steve’s sheets, the backs of his knees pressed down by Steve’s broad shoulders.

His tongue just kept moving in an endless, undulating rhythm, everything warm and wet and soft, and Tony started babbling nonsense words, in between a litany of “oh fuck Steve, yes, fuck, please, _Steve_ ,” that seemed to be affecting Steve, if his moans vibrating into Tony were any indication.

The sensations finally started to get too much for Tony to lie there and keep taking it, so he reached a hand down, under himself, and wrapped it around his cock, which was rock hard and leaking onto the sheets.

But Steve pulled back immediately, reaching his hand underneath Tony and gently tugging Tony’s hand off.

Tony whined desperately, but Steve shook his head. “No,” he gasped out, “Please, I want-“ He gently but firmly flipped Tony over – who stared up at him and groaned at the sight of Steve, chest heaving and mouth glistening, lips swollen and red and shiny.

Steve shuffled back up the bed, leaning over Tony and devouring his mouth with the same intense focus he’d given his rim. Tony groaned raggedly at the sweet, salty, sour taste of himself on Steve’s tongue, pushing his own tongue into Steve’s mouth to chase the taste of it, even as their hands squeezed together firmly where Steve still held him.

They finally pulled apart to breathe, Steve looking wild eyed and desperate again. “What do you want?” Tony asked.

“I want to fuck you, face to face,” Steve murmured, voice raspy. But his brow pinched as he looked down at Tony. “But I don’t want to trigger you again, like the last time we were in that position.” Tony opened his mouth to reassure him, but Steve was already shaking his head. Tony’s eyes went wide and distressed when Steve actually left the bed – but before he could get out more than a distraught sound, Steve was back, a jar of lube retrieved from his bedside drawer. Tony frowned, but Steve smiled at him, hopeful, “Do you think you’ll still be triggered if you’re on top of me?”

Tony swallowed, arousal zapping down his spine and making his cock twitch. “There’s only one way to find out,” he murmured.

“Great,” Steve replied, already unscrewing the lid of the jar and coating his own fingers in a liberal amount of lube. “You promise you’ll tell me if you do start feeling panicky? We can stop whenever you need to.” His words and calm tone were completely at odds with his actions, as he knelt beside Tony on the bed and reached around to press a lubed finger to his own rim, mouth falling open a little as he breached the muscle.

Tony’s own mouth fell open, at the sight, and it took him a minute to remember that Steve had asked him a question. “I promise,” he reassured him, leaning up on one elbow so that he could get a better view, as Steve carefully, but quickly, prepared himself, already stretching the tight ring of muscle open with one long, broad finger, lips moving soundlessly at the sensation.

“You’ve- done this before, with a Human right?” Steve asked, voice coming out more breathless now, as he paused to add more lube and then added a second finger.

“I have,” Tony confirmed, tearing his gaze away from where Steve’s fingers were scissoring and stretching, to meet his eyes. He smirked, “I used to have a similar reputation to Howard,” he explained, “Before-“ he gestured at his chest.

“Ah,” Steve said, eyes twinkling and an answering smirk lifting the corner of his lips, before his mouth fell open again as his fingers moved inside him. “Guess I’m lucky I didn’t hear that particular bit of gossip before, might have made some different assumptions, after the first time.”

Tony’s mouth twisted downwards, “I’m glad you didn’t, because this isn’t like that, for me.”

Steve’s eyes met his, dark and intense, sweat beading on his forehead, his cheeks stained red. “Good.”

Then he twisted his fingers in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head and he groaned – and Tony wasn’t content to continue sitting back and enjoying the show. He’d always been a hands on kind of person. He pushed himself up onto his knees, Steve blinking at the motion, and shuffled over, reaching for the open jar of lube and coating his fingers with a generous amount. “Do you mind?” Tony asked, the other hand reaching out to grasp Steve’s hip.

Steve pulled his own fingers out, shaking his head, “Go ahead.”

Tony pushed himself closer so that their bodies were flush, then reached around and pressed two fingers to Steve’s entrance, already slippery and pliable, easily accepting Tony’s fingers as he gently pushed them inside. Both of them groaned at the motion, Steve arching ever so slightly against him, his lubed fingers landing on Tony’s hip as he steadied himself. Tony pressed his fingers in and out, a few times, exploring this hot, soft, tight place hidden in Steve’s body, stretching against the muscles so that he would be able to take more.

He scooped up more lube, a minute later, before adding a third finger along with the first two, really opening Steve up now, enjoying the way he started to rock down into the sensation, panting softly in Tony’s ear.

It took a few more minutes, his fingers pumping in and out steadily, for Tony to find the right angle and press against Steve’s prostate – but he knew exactly when he’d found it, from the way Steve groaned, his body arching even further into Tony’s, neck stretching back to expose his throat. Tony sped up the motion, pressing into that knot of muscle over and over until Steve was as incoherent as he’d made Tony, earlier. “T-Tony, fuck, Tony, _please_ , I-“ Steve whined, straining against Tony’s hand on his hip as he tried to ride Tony’s fingers, driving himself back onto Tony’s hand.

“What was it you said earlier, in the shower, about taking your time?” Tony teased, breathing hotly into Steve’s ear and then stretching his tongue out to trace along the shell of it, making Steve gasp.

“ _Tony_ , please, I’m ready, I _need_ -” Steve begged, his hand tightening on Tony’s hip.

“Don’t worry Steve, I’ve got you,” Tony soothed him, sliding his fingers free, feeling his own rim twitch as Steve whined at the loss. “Come on, lie down.”

It took them a moment to get reoriented, Steve lying below Tony on the mattress, staring up at him with pupils blown wide. Tony reached up over him to grab a pillow, shoving it unceremoniously under Steve’s hips, and then gently lifting Steve’s legs so they were wrapped around Tony’s hips. Then he just paused a moment, taking in Steve, all the long, gorgeous lines of him, his perfect muscles glistening with sweat, strands of hair flopping down onto his forehead. “Tony?” Steve queried, giving him a bemused smile.

Tony blinked, “Right, sorry, you’re just so gorgeous I forgot what I was doing for a second.”

Steve chuckled, “Well, considering that it’s _me_ you’re doing, you might want to focus.”

Tony groaned, pressing his forehead into Steve’s shoulder and shaking his head. “Gorgeous and a complete dork,” he amended, lifting his head back up to give Steve an unimpressed look that was probably just unbearably adoring.

Steve laughed even louder, grinning up at Tony, “You love it.”

“I do,” Tony agreed, face softening. He leaned in and pressed a kiss to Steve’s lips, eyes closing, feeling the full gravity of this moment, just for a moment, before he pulled back. “Ready?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “Only for the past ten minutes.”

“See if I take my time to make sure you’re ready next time,” Tony muttered, teasing, as he adjusted himself minutely and then wrapped a hand around his cock to guide it into Steve’s waiting hole.

Steve actually swallowed, at that comment, which Tony filed away for future consideration. They stared at each other, the air suddenly crackling with tension again as Tony pushed his cock inside Steve, mouth falling open at the vice-like grip of his muscles around him. They were tighter than a Trill, with less motion, obviously, though Tony’s cock had absolutely no objections. Steve certainly wasn’t complaining, as the subtle ridges of Tony’s cock stretched his rim as he pulled his cock back out and then thrust forward again.

Unlike the frantic, desperate sex they’d had before, there was nothing hurried about this. Even with the thrumming tension building in the base of his spine, Tony fucked into Steve slowly, opening him up with shallow, gentle strokes.

Steve’s hands rested on Tony’s shoulders, a comfortable weight, and his hips started to rock against him, meeting his thrusts as they gradually began to push deeper. “Tony,” Steve whispered, their eyes never leaving each other as they moved together, his body opening up to Tony more and more.

“Steve,” Tony whispered back, arms straining on either side of Steve’s broad chest, as he held himself up. He leaned down and they shared an open mouthed kiss, pulling away to breathe, and then delving in again, Tony’s hips never ceasing in their steady rhythm, cock pushing into Steve and then pulling back out so that he could press in all over again, a dance performed by species across the galaxy, and now by them, on Steve’s bed, the hum of the air filtration system and the vibration of the warp engines the only reminder of the outside world.

Everything else was reduced to the two of them, on this bed, moving against each other. Tony fucking into Steve with long, deep thrusts now, still unhurried, as they lay face to face, breathing each other’s air.

“Tony, I need, I _want_ , more, _please_ ,” Steve murmured into his mouth – already moving to wrap his long, long legs higher up around Tony’s waist, adjusting the angle of Tony’s thrusts.

Tony groaned, as the adjustment pushed him even deeper into Steve on the next thrust. But he knew what Steve was asking for – hitched Steve’s thighs up even higher as he pressed himself down into Steve, cock rocking into him as he moved until, finally, Steve cried out, as Tony found his prostate again.

Steve’s back bowed, his head tilting back to expose his throat, and Tony made a sound of approval into it, pulling back out and thrusting back in, pleasure blooming in his chest as Steve gasped out again.

“ _Yes_ , Steve,” Tony whispered into his throat, pushing into him with smooth, deep thrusts. “Want to make you feel good,” he murmured, mouthing at Steve’s skin, sweat and salt on his tongue.

“So good, _fuck_ ,” Steve gasped, his fingers grasping onto Tony like a lifeline, thighs squeezing around him, as Tony’s cock plunged into him, over and over, pressing against his prostate with every stroke. “Love you,” he murmured into Tony’s hair, fingers digging in to his shoulders.

“Fuck,” Tony gasped, his rhythm faltering for a second before he pressed in again. He was moving faster, now, the tension he’d been ignoring suddenly becoming urgent, as he fucked into Steve harder, his cock pumping in and out, Steve meeting his thrusts, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room, harsh pants bursting out of them as their breathing sped up, Tony gripping the sheets in an iron grip as he groaned out, “Love you too, Steve, _so_ much.”

His hips were snapping as he pounded into Steve, his hole leaking, slick dripping down between his legs. Steve’s cock was bobbing between them, also leaking and dribbling precome onto his stomach. “Unngh, Tony,” Steve groaned, “Fuck, _fuck_!”

Now Tony was the one who needed more, “Can you- touch yourself?” he panted out, sweat pooling in the small of his back, dripping down his forehead.

Steve let out a whine, one of his hands releasing its duranium grip on Tony’s shoulder and wrapping around his own cock. Tony forced his eyes open enough to look down, between them, watch his own cock pumping in and out of Steve, everything shiny and slick and wet, and watch Steve wrap his hand around his cock, purplish red, pumping it quickly in time with Tony’s thrusts. “Ah ah ah, Tony,” Steve whined, his head pressed back into the mattress, eyes squeezed tightly shut, expression almost pained.

“Yes, _Ste_ ve, that’s it,” Tony panted, in between breaths, “Want to- feel you- come.” He was driving into Steve over and over, slamming into his prostate with every thrust, desperate to bring them both to release.

“Ohhh, T _ony_ ,” Steve groaned, as his orgasm overcame him, his entire back arched off the mattress, his heels digging into the backs of Tony’s thighs, his cock spurting out thick ropes of come across his stomach and chest, his long fingers pumping it for every last drop.

At the same time, his internal muscles clenched around Tony’s cock, providing exactly the right pressure that Tony needed, squeezing around him so perfectly that it was only a matter of one, two, three more thrusts and- “ _Yes!_ _Steve_ , _oh_ , _yes_ , fuck, _fuuuck_ ,” Tony cried out, his body bowing back, mouth open wide as his orgasm flooded out of him, his cock pumping come into Steve’s body with each thrust.

His own internal muscles rippled with the force of his orgasm, squeezing around nothing, but his release had been so powerful as is it hardly mattered – so Tony startled when he suddenly felt fingers pressing at his entrance, easily pushing past the soaking wet rim and inside him.

His eyes flew open to see Steve, below him, looking absolutely wrecked, dripping with sweat, hair plastered to his forehead, lips swollen, but gaze fixed further down Tony’s body. He pumped his fingers in and out of Tony, whose eyes squeezed shut again at the sensation, brow pinching and mouth falling open as his internal muscles responded to Steve’s thrusts. He gasped, soundlessly, as they squeezed around Steve’s fingers, trying to milk them for come, which obviously wasn’t going to happen – but apparently the extra stimulation alone was enough to send another, smaller, orgasm rippling through him, his cock thrusting in and out of Steve a few more times, squirting out another pulse of come into him, making him moan.

Tony’s chest was heaving, with the exertion, when Steve finally pulled his fingers out and released his legs’ grip around Tony’s waist. Both of them whined when the motion released Tony’s cock from Steve, along with a flood of come.

“Oh my god,” Steve rasped out, stroking his hands down Tony’s back and gently encouraging him to lie across Steve’s chest, both of them still breathing hard. “That was- fucking hell.”

“I know,” Tony agreed, voice equally rough, all of his muscles relaxed, even as his skin buzzed with the aftershocks.

They just lay together, for long minutes afterwards, coming down, their breaths still harsh and heavy, sweat cooling on their skin and come growing sticky between them and where it had dripped on the sheets. Tony didn’t care though – the opposite really, the idea of Steve being filled by his release made some ancient, primitive part of him purr with pleasure, satisfaction curling low in his gut.

Still, it wouldn’t do to fall asleep like this. He forced his eyes open, letting out a pleased rumble in the back of his throat at the deep relaxation that spread through all of his limbs, even as he forced himself to push himself up, hands pressing into Steve’s warm skin. “Come on, back to the shower,” he told Steve, voice raspy.

Steve groaned, squinting one eye open to look up at Tony. Tony ran one of his hands through the mess on Steve’s chest for emphasis, and Steve scrunched up his nose before sitting up with a grumble – Tony startled and would have fallen, if Steve hadn’t scooped him up into his arms, carrying him back to the fresher before Tony had even realised what was happening.

He gently placed Tony down, activating the sonic shower yet again, and not even bothering to open his eyes properly as it cleaned them. Tony chuckled, leaning on Steve on legs that were even more unsteady than before, “I guess now I know what it takes to make you speechless,” he teased.

Steve squinted down at him, “The real question is what more does it take to render _you_ speechless?” he asked, voice just as wrecked as the rest of him.

Tony hummed, smirking up at him, “Guess you’ll just have to do some more experimentation and find out.”

Steve smirked, at that, reaching down to curve one broad hand across Tony’s hip, even as his other hand curled around Tony’s jaw to bring his mouth up to meet Steve’s. “I’m looking forward to it.”


	11. Post-Credits Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the same way that I envision the first chapter as the opening Teaser of a film, this final chapter is the Post-Credits Scene ;D

Tony raced down the corridor, his footsteps echoing off the harsh metal grating of the deck plates, the sound bouncing off the alcoves around him. His pulse thundered in his ears as he ran, going as fast as his legs would take him, trying to get away- no, to reach the end-

Wait.

Tony stopped, chest heaving, standing still and stationary in the middle of the corridor on the Borg diamond. The air was damp and humid around him, haze filling the air and making the sickly yellow and green light even more eerie.

He let the metallic fingers grab onto his arms, and legs, when it was time, and felt the disorienting jump from vertical to horizontal as he was suddenly lying on the icy metal surface, staring up into the unseeing eyes and the greyscale faces of the Borg drones, all long dead now, finally released from the nightmare of their existence in this purgatory.

Tony let himself move through the motions of resistance, let his arms try to pull themselves free, his legs push himself up, his hips swivel and twist, but it felt slow, like molasses, an echo of movement, a long way away. The sting of the assimilation tubules puncturing his neck was only a memory, as was the electric warmth of his nerves’ final signal, and the ice blossoming in his chest that swept down to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“Stark!” the familiar voice called, the sound of his name immediately lost to the cacophony of the Collective, the echoes of their voices bouncing around his mind, never truly leaving him, but now, at least, separate to him.

Tony felt himself starting to dissolve into it, the fuzzy rush of blackness, but this was just a dream, a memory he’d relived so many times now that he knew, with increasing certainty, that it was just a memory. Just an event that had happened to him in the past.

He wasn’t trapped there, now.

Tony pushed himself off the metal surface. Stood up again, straight and tall.

“I’m here!” he called out, his voice echoing as if travelling a great distance.

“Tony? Stark! Please, help me!” the voice called, closer now than it had ever been before.

In the dreamscape, Tony turned around, willed the fog to part. He needed to know. Even if he didn’t like the answer, he needed to know who was calling to him. Who he hadn’t been able to help.

A face appeared out of the gloom, the darkness parting around it, but shadows clinging to its sharp angles and curves, the pout of his lips, the sweep of his eyelashes.

A tremor shook through Tony, panic bursting out of him, sweeping across his body even as he rocked back, then raced forward, trying to reach him – but watching in vain as the darkness swallowed him up once again.

“Tony, help me, please!” the voice echoed, as if from far away, as Tony’s reaching, grasping hand stretched out, dissolved in to the blackness that surrounded him.

Tony woke with a jolt, flinging himself upright, eyes flying open and his hearts racing at warp ten, breathing ragged and loud and a sob choked in his throat in the darkness of his quarters.

“JARVIS! Lights!” he cried out, blinding himself, as he stumbled out of the bed, blankets catching on his legs as he threw himself onto the floor, hands and knees pressing into the soft fibres of the carpet as he breathed and breathed, sucking air desperately into his lungs.

“Tony? Wh’s goin’ on?” Steve murmured from above him, and Tony froze. He wasn’t in his quarters, he was still in Steve’s, on the Avenger, the night after the Battle of Cardassia.

He gulped in a lungful of air and looked up at Steve, leaning over the edge of the bed to look down at Tony, forearm thrown up to shield his eyes from the light, his hair a riotous mess after the night they’d had, eyes squinting after being woken so abruptly.

“Sorry,” Tony gasped out, squeezing his fingers into the carpet more firmly, “JARVIS, lights one quarter.”

Everything dimmed around them, but Tony still had panic clawing up his throat. Steve seemed to realise this, because he was suddenly beside Tony, on the floor, murmuring to him softly. “It’s okay Tony. It was just a dream, it’s not real, it’s okay, I’m here,” he soothed, hand hovering above Tony’s shoulder, but not touching.

Tony shook his head, but pushed himself up enough from the floor that Steve’s hand connected with his skin. He felt the muscles relax, at the touch, tried to slow his breathing down. “Not just a dream,” he said, breathing still ragged. But he pushed himself up fully, turned around to face Steve, who opened his arms. Tony let himself lean on him, tucking his head against his chest and sighing as Steve’s arms came around him, holding him gently but solidly. He wrapped his own arms around Steve’s waist, pressing them together, skin to skin, and felt himself relax, by degrees.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve offered, murmuring it into Tony’s hair after pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

Tony swallowed. Not sure he could, without sounding completely mad, but he knew he couldn’t keep this to himself. “I have these dreams,” he began, “About being on the Borg ship. Being assimilated.” Steve made a distressed sound but just continued soothing his palms along Tony’s skin. “Stark’s way of processing the memories, I think. Except, I don’t think they’re just dreams …”

Steve pulled back slightly, so he could look down at Tony, brow furrowed, “What do you mean?”

Tony swallowed again, mouth turning down and face growing pinched, he fought back the fresh wave of panic that coursed through him. “I thought- all this time- but, _fuck_ , I’m such an _idiot_ , all these years-“

“Hey, shh, none of that,” Steve soothed, but Tony shook his head, violently, grabbing onto Steve’s huge biceps.

“ _No_ , Steve, you don’t understand, all these _years_ , he’s been trying to tell me!”

Steve’s frown deepened, “Who?”

Tony met his eyes, his own wild and panicked. “Bucky. I think he’s still alive Steve.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunnn :'D
> 
> Rest assured dear readers, this isn't the end! The truth is, I was always writing towards the sequel! When I got back into this AU and finally shared the first four fics I started having ideas for the fic where they rescue Bucky, BUT I knew I needed to write this fic where Steve comes into the future first ;)
> 
> That said, I haven't even started writing the sequel yet, and while I have some scenes and general ideas in mind, I need to spend some time planning what's going to happen and where it's going to go before I even start writing. This fic took me a month to write before I even started posting, because I need to know that I've written most of it and know how it's going to end, so I don't do that horrible thing of leaving a fic an unfinished wip forever! 
> 
> SO hit the subscribe to series button and when I'm ready to share you'll be the first to know :)
> 
> I've also got a couple of ideas for more short fic in the anthology (Carol & Fury; Wanda & Pietro; maybe even Maria Stark/Peggy ;D), so I might see if those want to be written while I'm planning the next epic! (I'm also contemplating a fic from Steve's POV that bridges this story and the sequel, but we'll see where inspiration takes me!)
> 
> Anyway, to those that have been reading each instalment, and those who have just discovered it now that it's complete, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Apologies for anyone who wanted more of the other Avengers, I definitely want to include more in the sequel/other fics, but this was Tony and Steve's story :)
> 
> As always, if you also love Star Trek and Marvel, feel free to come and chat to me on [Tumblr](http://aceofwands.tumblr.com/)! I don't do that author thing of posting snippets (though maybe I should?!) but I'm always up for a conversation :D


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